And The Rest
by Catherine Pugh
Summary: The Professor and Mary Ann start off as good friends, but what happens over the years they spend together on the Island?
1. Chapter 1

_The cruise from Honolulu on the S.S. Minnow was supposed to be a research side-trip for Professor Roy Hinkley. He tired of the academic rigours of teaching high school science – the doe-eyed sophomore girls, the pressures to coach football (the Professor's sport of choice was chess). When June 3__rd__ came, he spent his hard-earned wages on a trip to Hawaii. _

_In the past, the Professor had known more than his share of young women who pretended to like science just to get to "know him better." Although he admitted readily that he was a perfectly normal "red-blooded male," he hated the idea of a woman who couldn't keep up with him intellectually. After a few disastrous dates a long time ago, he resigned himself to the fact that he would forever be solitary in his quest for new scientific discoveries. He simply couldn't bear a woman who wanted nothing but cuddling and unsanitary oral bacterial transference._

_He didn't take much notice of her when he boarded the ship, but her curiosity in the book he was reading grabbed his attention. _

"_Are you a marine biologist?" she had asked, cheerfully. "I was wondering if we might see dolphins on our cruise!"_

"_No, Miss, but if you have any questions about the flora and fauna of the area, I might be able to discuss some of it with you. Roy Hinkley, but most people just call me The Professor."_

"_Mary Ann Summers. Most people just call me Mary Ann." They shook hands heartily._

_She was a bright girl, early twenties, he reckoned. She'd won the cruise in a contest, she told him, and while she was there to experience the beauty of the Hawaiian islands, she had an earnest interest in learning about Hawaii._

_That was several weeks ago. Before the nightmare. He remembered how she had instinctively sought him out during the storm for protection. He'd never held a woman in his arms before, but he did what he could to shield her from flying debris as the ship weathered the crashing waves._

At present, most of the castaways were scattered about the island, doing various activities. The Howells were planning a golf course on the west end, the Skipper and Gilligan were searching for hut-building supplies, and Ginger was in the lagoon having a swim.

The Professor and Mary Ann volunteered to stay behind and work on ideas for their dwellings.

They sat outside under the shade of some palm trees on the beach. Earlier, Gilligan and the Skipper had pulled the remainder of supplies off of the marooned ship, and the pair were going through them. The Professor had chopped some bamboo earlier in the morning and was currently working on putting the finishing touches on a crudely-made tiki torch.

Mary Ann smiled at him brightly and pulled out some canvas from the steamer trunk rescued from the Minnow. She squealed in delight.

"Good news?" he asked, putting the torch in the ground and coming over to help her with the steamer trunk.

"I think we'll be able to salvage this fabric," she beamed. "Those patches I earned in Girl Scouts are coming to good use! I got one in sewing, one in baking, and one in camping!"

"It's a miracle it doesn't have any mildew," the Professor remarked, holding the other end out so they could examine the cloth. "Let's think of ideas we can do with this material. Hammocks, for instance. Or sacks for carrying provisions." He stretched out the cloth in his hands, checking for strength.

"How about a more practical dress for Ginger – she can't be of much use prancing around in an evening gown all the time."

"I'm glad you mentioned that," the Professor said, in a lower tone. "I was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to do anything useful. All she ever does is worry about her reflection."

"But she IS much prettier," Mary Ann sighed. "I'm sorry, Professor, sometimes it's hard being so…ordinary. I never feel like I can compete."

"Nor should you have to, my dear," the Professor replied, jovially, handing her a towel. "Some things are much more important, anyway. She's not as creative as you are, for instance. Or practical. Or smart."

Mary Ann smiled and deftly ignored his compliment, too preoccupied with her insecurities to notice. The Professor deflated a bit, realizing she had something else on her mind. _Probably that idiot Gilligan,_ he thought, remembering how smitten she had seemed with him.

Mary Ann wasn't thinking about Gilligan, however. She was too busy remembering Ginger seductively stroking the Professor's face with a palm frond earlier in the day, calling him "hot shot." Mary Ann put aside whatever feelings of envy bubbling up from within, and happily pulled out a bale of twine from the pile. She tossed it over to him.

"You know, Professor, I wish there was some softer cloth available to make some nightgowns. I hate sleeping in my clothes, especially in a hut with six other people! Oh, I know there's blanket walls separating us, but still. I mean, really, Professor, Ginger insists on sleeping nude! I get that it's hot here, but it's a little weird for me," Mary Ann sighed.

"Don't tell the others about that," the Professor warned. "You know how sailors can be."

"Oh, don't worry," Mary Ann quipped, "She knows, too. I guess Kansans are more prudish than Hollywood starlets."

The Professor chuckled.

"Say, Mary Ann, hold on a minute. I have a solution - for you, at least." He pulled over his suitcase and opened it. "There are a couple of extra shirts in my luggage. Would you like to have one as a nightshirt? It'll be too small for what's left of Ginger's modesty, but you may have it, if you want something comfortable to wear."

Mary Ann's eyes went wide with surprise as he handed her a large workshirt.

"Oh, Professor, I couldn't take the shirt off your back!"

"Nonsense. If you can't sleep at night, how can you function properly during the day? Consider it…a birthday gift!"

Mary Ann giggled. "You're three months too late, but thank you ever so much! That is the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me!" She jumped up and gave the Professor a hug and kiss on the cheek. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the burning sensation on his face. He patted her hand and went right on back to work.

"Now, Mary Ann, what do you think is the best way to arrange these palm fronds to keep out the weather?"

-o0o-

That night, Mary Ann cheerfully put on the Professor's shirt as she climbed into bed. Ginger noticed immediately.

"Where did you get that shirt, Mary Ann?" she asked, unable to disguise the jealous tone in her voice.

"The Professor," Mary Ann replied cheerfully, shrugging her shoulders. "He had an extra."

"Do you know what it means when a boy gives you an article of clothing to wear?" Ginger persisted, trying to embarrass Mary Ann.

"It means I have on a nightshirt, and you don't," Mary Ann sighed, resting her head on the crude pillow she'd made from some of the canvas. "If you don't mind, Ginger, I need my rest. Long day tomorrow. And I'm exhausted!"

Ginger laid her head down on her own pillow, seething. She had assumed Mary Ann would want Gilligan. After all, they were closer in age, and Mary Ann clearly admired him. No, the only really handsome, single man on the island was the Professor, and Ginger Grant was determined to land him for herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary Ann sat by the lagoon one morning, finishing up the wash. Her back ached from the stretching and pulling over the makeshift washboard she'd fashioned out of bamboo and woven palm fronds. It worked, but Laundry Day was always the worst.

"Do you need a hand putting that up on the line, Mary Ann?" The Professor wandered over, handing her a piece of mango.

"Oh, do I ever," Mary Ann replied, holding her back in pain as the Professor helped her to her feet. "Laundry Day gets harder and harder when you're all by your lonesome."

"I thought the Skipper told Ginger…"

"Ginger was supposed to help me, but she said she had an important scene to rehearse, in case we got rescued. By the way, she told me to tell you to come by the totem pole on the north end to help practice her kiss."

The Professor shuddered. "I think I'll stick to chores. The rope has gone a bit slack, I'd better tighten it." He pulled the knot tighter as the rope went taut. He took the basket from Mary Ann and started pinning the garments to the line. He blushed a bit when he picked up Mary Ann's shorts from the laundry basket.

"On second thought, I'll hang the men's clothes, and you hang the women's. We'll…we'll get things done faster that way," he stammered. Mary Ann giggled, took her shorts, and they cheerfully hung the clothes to dry.

"Thank you for your help, Professor," Mary Ann said, as they finished. She couldn't help but notice his muscles under the shirt, and how nice his profile was. Her heart began to flutter as she tried to find something else to say. She tried in vain to think of what Ginger would say. Instead, she blurted out the most boring, everyday thing she could think of.

"Oh, Professor. I forgot to tell you…that soap we made last month from the palm and coconut oils finally seems to have cured pretty well. It got most of the stains out of the Skipper's spare polo shirt. Smells nice, too."

The Professor beamed with pride. He knew that "Wonderful World of Tropical Home Remedies" book would come in handy one day. He handed the laundry basket to Mary Ann. "I'm glad it makes your life a little easier. Well, I'd better be going."

"Going to help Ginger, now?" Mary Ann muttered, as she gathered up her washboard and soap.

"On the contrary, I am in the middle of an experiment," the Professor replied. "I thought I might attempt to create an alkaline solution out of the Mogumbuu berries I gathered yesterday. It has strong chemical properties similar to battery acid, which could come in handy when recharging the ones in the radio."

"Who knew our island would have everything we need for our own hand at civilization? Gee, all we need now is an electric washer and a telephone!" She shruggd and smiled as they walked toward the huts. "See you at dinner!"

The Professor walked toward his makeshift bamboo laboratory and was suddenly struck with an idea. He pulled out his tablet and pencil and began jotting down some ideas. The Mogumbuu berry solution could wait. This was his greatest idea yet.

-o0o-

Later that afternoon, Ginger sauntered up to the Professor and put her arms around him seductively, as he was tying a contraption together with palm fronds.

"Helloooo," she purred in his ear.

"Hi," he said, his hands suddenly beginning to shake. The palm frond split.

"Darn it," he sputtered. "That's the third one. They're just too dry."

"Can Ginger-Winger make it allll better?" Ginger murmured, her breath hot on his neck.

The Professor looked up at her, unfazed. "Yes, actually you CAN be of assistance, Ginger," he replied. She sat in his lap, her hands clasped on his shoulders, waiting for his answer. "Can you gather a few some stronger vines for me, so I can fashion some ties for this axle? These palm fronds aren't strong enough to do the trick."

Ginger was not to be denied. She kissed her finger and put it to his lips. "No, but YOU are," she said, her eyelashes dipping low.

"What did you do that for?" he asked.

"Just wanted to," she replied, getting up and walking over toward the brush pile.

The Professor shrugged and continued working on his contraption.

Unbeknownst to the Professor and Ginger, Mary Ann had seen the whole exchange between Ginger and the Professor, and for some reason, she felt incredibly jealous.

"Girls like her ALWAYS get the nice ones," Mary Ann thought, sadly. She whirled around and stamped back into the hut, trying hard not to let the tears welling in her eyes escape. "I guess there's always Gilligan."

-o0o-

Three days later, Gilligan saw the Professor hard at work on his project. He thoughtfully chewed on a banana. The smell of pie wafted through the air. Mary Ann had promised everyone she would make something special for dessert.

"Whatcha working on, Professor?" Gilligan asked.

"A top secret machine," he replied, tightening a bamboo screw. "Actually, you can help me test it out."

"What's it for?"

"If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, now would it?"

"No, I guess not." He walked over to the Professor, who was hard at work wrapping vines around two wheels as a belt.

"Gilligan, this activity will require two hands. Can you please finish your snack before you assist me?"

"Sure, hang on."

"And we need to make sure that Mary Ann…"

Gilligan stuffed his mouth with the remainder of the banana and threw the peel behind his back without looking.

"Mummahh arrgh huh?" Gilligan replied, chewing with his mouth full. The Professor yanked on a vine and cut it with his pocket knife. He looked up and saw Mary Ann heading right toward them, her arms loaded with three fresh pies. The Professor stopped in alarm and began to warn her.

"Mary Ann! Watch out for that – "

Too late. She slipped on the peel, and three fresh pies went straight into the air, landing on her in a catastrophic mess. She looked around, confused.

"Mary Ann? Mary Ann! Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Gilligan leapt up to try to help her to her feet, accidentally ensnaring the Professor in a coil of vines. The Professor tripped and fell on the ground, a cloud of sand and dust puffling up underneath. He untangled his foot from the vine coil and joined Gilligan in assisting her up from the ground.

"Ohhh, I've never been so humiliated in my life. And just look at our pies!" she wailed. She tried to stand on her ankle. "Owww!" she howled.

"Gee, Mary Ann, I'm sorry about that. Can I make it up to you?" Gilligan asked, trying to smooth things over. "Here's a towel so you can get that junk off your face."

"Oh, Gilligan," she sniffled miserably. "Professor, I think I hurt my ankle." Mary Ann began to cry as the adrenaline subsided and pain began to take effect. Gilligan paced back and forth with worry. The Professor stood beside her and steadied her. Ginger and the Howells heard the commotion and came over to investigate. Ginger dropped her vines in surprise when she saw the Professor's arms around Mary Ann. She stomped over to the hut indignantly, unseen by anyone else.

"Okay, dear. I'm going to lift you," the Professor said, picking Mary Ann up off the ground and carrying her over to the table. Her ankle had already swollen a bit and was beginning to bruise. The Professor gently examined the injury.

"Well, it just looks like a mild sprain. No broken bones. You're going to have to stay off of it for a couple of days."

"But how will all of the cooking and laundry get done?" Mary Ann began to wring her hands in despair. She knew as well as anyone else that she was the one who got most of the homefront going.

The Professor momentarily looked as concerned as she did, but his kind, reassuring tones calmed her down a bit.

"We'll worry about that later. We need to get this leg elevated and compressed. Gilligan, you can help by soaking some rags in cold water for Mary Ann's ankle." Gilligan happily complied, and miraculously was able to do this simple task with no further complications.

Suddenly, the hut door swung open dramatically.

"Professor? I mean…Doctor?"

Ginger appeared in the door frame, wearing a white dress and nurse's cap. She looked like an extra from _Ben Casey_. She alluringly crossed her leg in front of her like a fashion model.

"Yes?" the Professor muttered, ignoring her, focusing on bandaging Mary Ann's ankle properly.

She sauntered over to him. She held the clipboard in front of her and tapped it with a pencil.

"Nurse Grant here, at your service."

"Great, thanks. Gonna need a few more bandages." He took no notice of her, too engrossed in Mary Ann's injury. "Come on, hurry, up, we have to keep the swelling down."

"Ohhh!" Ginger threw down her clipboard and crossed her arms. Gilligan took her hand.

"Come on, Ginger! I'll show you how, it's not hard."

"Forget it," Ginger grumbled, putting the nurse cap on Gilligan's head. "I've got to rehearse."

-o0o-

That night, Mary Ann lay comfortably on the Professor's cot in her nightshirt, with her foot elevated, waiting for Mr. Howell's tranquilizer to take effect. It was hitting her fast. The Professor tucked her in. The others had fallen asleep.

"Professor?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Where will you sleep tonight?"

"Right here," he replied, motioning to the makeshift cot he'd made out of leftover material from a weather balloon and the steamer trunk from the Minnow. It was as far away from Mary Ann's cot as possible, which was, to be sure, only about 5 feet to the left.

"Won't you be uncomfortable? I feel guilty for taking your bed."

"It was closer than yours. Just relax and go to sleep. You've had a bad day."

Mary Ann clutched her blanket and shifted her other leg. "I heard Mrs Howell say it was improper for a lady to sleep in a bachelor's bedroom," she teased. Her head felt foggy from the tranquilizer.

"Oh, nonsense. There's nothing but blankets separating the rooms, anyway. Now, if you need anything in the night, just let me know."

"Okay," she smiled drowsily, laying her head back down on her pillow, still feeling guilty for taking his cot. The Professor laid his head down on the scrunched up coat. Mary Ann, despite her grogginess, still felt bad that he seemed so uncomfortable. She handed over her spare pillow.

"At least take this, Professor. Thank you for taking care of me today."

The Professor smiled warmly as his head hit the pillow. He propped up a book on his chest and began to read.

"Professor?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you reading?"

"A delightful commentary on the botanical group known as _Pteridophyta_, also known as the common fern. You see, one of my main interests are monilophytes, of which there are plenty on this island. I've counted seventeen distinct species on this side alone."

"Sounds really interesting," she murmured, her eyes drooping.

"Well, my dear, when your ankle is healed, let's see what we can find out about some of them," he replied, looking up. She had fallen sound asleep. He smiled, closed his book, and laid his head back down to sleep.

The next morning, Mary Ann found another book next to her with a note from the Professor.

_Mary Ann –_

_I thought this book might interest you: it details the various botanical groups on these islands and might prove most helpful in identifying edible plants when foraging. I'll be by to check on your ankle later this afternoon when I have finished with the Mogumbuu extract. Remember, as the Romans say, Non est vivere sed valere vita est._

_- R.H._

Mary Ann smiled, picked up the book, and began reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Mary Ann's ankle had healed up nicely by Christmas. In gratitude for all the help everyone had given her during her convalescence, she caught and cooked a nice fish dinner for her island mates. The Professor and Skipper had cut a little palm tree, and they decorated it together with a bunch of Ginger's bangles and a starfish garland the Professor had made. After a weird encounter with what appeared to be Santa Claus, the Castaways enjoyed the remainder of the meal.

"This is wonderful, simply wonnnnderful," rhapsodized Mrs Howell. Thank you for the dinner, dear."

"Agreed," said Ginger. "I couldn't have asked for a better meal at the Tour D'Argent." The Howells rolled their eyes at each other.

"Can I have another helping?" asked Gilligan.

"That would be your fourth serving," the Skipper scolded. "Don't be rude. Let someone else have some."

"I could do with another helping myself," the Professor chimed in, smiling as Mary Ann scooped up the remainder of the fish on his plate. He put it down, smiling broadly. "A toast to Mary Ann, the glue that keeps us together."

The rest raised their coconut shell cups in unison. "To Mary Ann," they said.

Mary Ann blushed as she started clearing up the table. "Aw, gee, guys, it was my pleasure." She walked around the table, picking up the plates as usual.

"Let me do that, Mary Ann," Gilligan said, taking the dishes from her. Mary Ann shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

"Go over to the chaise lounge and sit down, dear," insisted Mrs Howell. Everyone took some dishes and walked them toward the washing-up area.

Mary Ann decided to rest after all, and soon found herself alone with her thoughts as Christmas night descended upon the island.

_At dinner, when they exchanged presents, everyone got something from the Professor…except Mary Ann. The Howells had gotten a bamboo liquour cabinet, the Skipper a hand-bound captain's log, and Ginger got a lovely pair of seashell earrings. But nothing for Mary Ann. Her stomach dropped and her heart lurched. Well, that was that, Mary Ann thought. Apparently the Professor had only been nice to her because he felt sorry for her. _

Tears welled up in Mary Ann's eyes as she thought about how foolish she had been, hoping the Professor had some interest in her at all.

"Mary Ann?" The Professor came up to her and gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Ohhh, what do you want?" Mary Ann grumbled, resenting being yanked from her thoughts. Even if they weren't pleasant ones.

The Professor was taken aback. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, I was lost in thought."

"Care to discuss it?"

Mary Ann felt her face turn red. "I…never mind. I finished the book you lent me – the one about the poisonous tropical plants."

The Professor's face brightened. "Ah! I thought you would enjoy that. And what have you learned? Anything particularly exciting? I've been waiting for weeks to discuss it with you. Why, with your farming background and my expertise, we might be able to figure out how to make some of this land arable."

Mary Ann adjusted herself a little and crossed her arms. Funny, how all he wanted to talk about was her brain.

"Is that so?" she asked, snippily.

The Professor was unfazed. "Yes indeed! I'd like to know what you think."

"Well, on the west end of the island is a whole field of night-blooming jasmine. It smells nice, but it's very toxic. Many of the flowers on the island are, as a matter of fact. We're going to have to be very careful."

"_Cestrum nocturnum_!" the Professor exclaimed. "That plant is very aromatic, indeed! Oh…I almost forgot, Mary Ann, there's another reason why I'm here."

He held out his hand and helped her to her feet. "I couldn't very well give it to you at dinner, because it's so large, but I have a surprise for you."

"You do?" she asked, leaping to her feet.

"Yes! Come on!" He took her hand and led her to the other side of the supply hut, in the area where he had been working.

There was a hand-pedal washing machine. The design was ingenious: the vines worked a belt that ran an agitator, much like the old fashioned washing machine her grandmother had in the summer kitchen back on the farm.

"It converts when you remove the washer attachment, and you can power this." He pulled over a crudely-fashioned but working sewing machine. Mary Ann's jaw dropped as she flung her arms around the Professor.

"Oh, Professor - you're wonderful! Simply wonderful!" she cried.

"You've been working so hard, Mary Ann – I thought this might ease up your day a little bit. And it's so simple, even Ginger can use it!"

Mary Ann laughed. "Oh, I've been so silly."

"How do you mean?" asked the Professor, his hand still on her back.

"Oh, I just jumped to the conclusion that you and Ginger…" she trailed off, her face reddening.

"Me and GINGER?" the Professor laughed. "Heavens, no. I have way too much work to do for that sort of nonsense."

Mary Ann chuckled. Well, at least he wasn't interested in Ginger, either. Boy, would she be sore. She remembered the night Ginger excitedly bragging that the Professor had burst into her room to sniff her neck, until Mary Ann remembered that he had been searching for a specific perfume base note to attract the gorilla.

"Thank you, Professor. You're the most thoughtful, kindest man I've ever known."

The Professor smiled and patted her gently on the back. "Merry Christmas, my dear. I am about to turn in for the evening. Good night."

-o0o-

The next morning, Mary Ann knocked on the Professor's hut opening. "Yoohoo, anyone home?"

The Professor looked up from his experiment. "Mary Ann! Good morning. How's the washer working?"

"Like a charm," she replied. "I forgot to give you your Christmas present, actually."

He blushed and shook his head. "Ohhhh. You didn't have to do that."

"I did." She pulled out the surprise from behind her back. "Merry Christmas, Professor. It's not much, but you did say once that you liked figs, and I found just enough this week to make something special just for you."

"Cake!" the Professor cried. "You're incredibly inventive, Mary Ann. How on earth did you make the flour?"

"It's made with cane sugar, tapioca flour, coconut milk and seagull eggs. I just used what I could find here on the island in place of what I'd usually use out of the ol' Betty Crocker cookbook. That mortar and pestle you made out of that rock has been fantastic in making flour with plants on the island. Go on, have a taste!"

The Professor took a small slice and ate a bite. It was heaven. If he didn't watch out, he would fall in love with her….and fast.


	4. Chapter 4

The Professor was sitting on the rock in the little grove of trees near camp, reading up on butterflies. Ginger came up the path, carrying an overflowing basket of berries on her hip.

"Oh, hi, Ginger, looks like you had a successful haul."

"Hi, Professor," purred Ginger, blowing him a kiss. The Professor glanced up, looked a bit befuddled, and scratched his head.

-o0o-

Meanwhile, Mary Ann finished plucking the fourth of the seven birds the Skipper had hunted. _Just like chickens back at the farm, _she thought_, but much smaller. _They would be delicious roasted with the herbs the Professor had picked that morning. He had promised to come help her with the fire after he was finished his reading, but she'd finished earlier than she expected. She walked up the path to fetch him.

-o0o-

"It's not supposed to go there, silly," she said, putting down the basket and sitting next to him. "It's supposed to go…here…." She seductively wrapped her arms around the Professor and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, just as Mary Ann was coming up the path. Mary Ann witnessed the spectacle, and suddenly turned around with a sad look on her face. The Professor was too shocked to notice, but Ginger sure did.

The Professor stood up in surprise. "Ginger, please, I am just about finished, I have to help Mary Ann with the fire in a few minutes. But I do have some exciting news! I have reason to believe that I've encountered one of the rarest forms of _papilio maaki maaki_ on the west side of the island. This engraving seems to confirm that my suspicions are correct."

"Oh, butterfly-schmutterfly. You're always reading about beautiful things, but never see the real thing…." She murmured in his ear. "There's more where THAT came from," she said, standing up and picking up the basket. She made sure to give him a display of her décolletage.

As she walked up the path, a smile broke out on her face. _She'd break him down, bit by bit. No man could ever resist the kisses and caresses of Ginger Grant. Not even the Professor, whatever his name really was._

The Professor shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and went back to reading. He hated when Ginger did that. At first the attention had been amusing, but she'd been coming on stronger than ever the past couple of weeks, and the distraction was really beginning to annoy him. He thought he'd be able to fend her off with clinical talk about bacterial transfer, but to no avail. He closed his book and lost himself in thought for a few minutes.

"You have lipstick all over your mouth," came a stern, high voice from above. He looked up to see Mary Ann with her hands on her hips. His stomach dropped. Her face meant business.

"Mary Ann, I…"

"You what? Spent the afternoon with Ginger when I was struggling all this time trying to butcher those birds? You told me you were doing research. HA!"

"I really was…"

"I BET you were. Well, here's news for you: I finished the plucking earlier and found you two…necking on the rock." The disgust in her voice was evident, but it was her disappointment that really hurt him. Mary Ann was on the verge of tears from anger and tried desperately not to show it. She should have known Ginger would overshadow her once more.

"Mary Ann, I assure you, we were not, as you call it, necking."

"Come on, there's work to be done and I really need your help." Mary Ann said flatly. "REAL work. If you don't help me with this fire, none of us will be able to eat tonight. And I'll be hanged if I ask Gilligan. Last time he almost set the supply hut on fire. Mister Howell is useless and the Skipper is foraging for bananas."

The Professor silently complied. He really did want to help with the birds. He got picked up his book and followed her to the cooking area. Ginger could be heard in her hut, rehearsing show tunes. The Professor felt guilty over what had happened that afternoon, realizing that yet again, pragmatic Mary Ann had been left to do the practicalities. _Ginger can be a real piece of work_, he thought to himself.

Mary Ann calmed down after a while, and dressed the birds with the Professor's herbs while he tended the fire. After they got dinner going, she sat down next to him at the table to rest. The others were off doing various activities.

"This will be delicious," the Professor said cheerfully. "Look, Mary Ann…I wanted to apologize for earlier."

She shook her head and waved her hand to ignore whatever it was he had to say. She was sure that no matter what he said, it would be a painful reminder that she wasn't as alluring as Ginger Grant.

"No need," she replied. "I had no right to criticize your personal life."

"That's just it," the Professor said, putting his hand over Mary Ann's to quiet her. "Hear me out," he whispered, leaning in closer so no one could overhear them. "I mean what I say when I tell you there really is nothing between Ginger and me. She snuck up on me like she always does to every male on this island. Even Mister Howell. You can't tell me you haven't seen that for yourself. That's simply what she does. I swear I did nothing to encourage it. And I never will. You see…" The Professor faltered, unable to continue. If he did, he knew he would put himself into a vulnerable position. Fortunately, Mary Ann diffused the situation.

"I'm sorry, I jumped to conclusions. I guess I was just jealous."

"You were?" He cleared his throat, trying to conceal the note of hopefulness in his voice. Maybe she really did feel something for him after all. "Mary Ann…I…"

Mary Ann realized her slip up and blushed. "I mean…I was just jealous that she was keeping you from helping me."

The Professor smiled ruefully, his brief light of hope crushed. "Oh, right. It was the logical thing to think, I suppose." Suddenly both looked down, realizing his hand still covered hers. They both tried to appear nonchalant about it.

"Well, I'd better get started on the herb salad," she said. "Thank you for picking that."

"I…ehm…I have to check up on my experiment," he replied. "I'll see you at dinner." They smiled as they parted.

Dinner was a rousing success. None of the Castaways had ever eaten seagull before, but it turned out to be quite delicious. The herb salad was the perfect accompaniment.

-o0o-

The next day was a strange one. Gilligan had found the Eye of the Idol, a piece of quartz ("only worth about eleven dollars", the Professor had scoffed) and two bowls of ice cream had mysteriously washed ashore after Gilligan specifically wished for them. Even the Professor had to admit the coincidence was rather extraordinary, but he refused to believe that Gilligan's silly piece of quartz would bring the group back to civilization.

After that, everyone was convinced it was their ticket home – even Mary Ann, to the Professor's disappointment. They were all beginning to sound as superstitious as the natives! He decided he would make a point of being the only person on the Island of sound mind and judgement, in an attempt to keep their collective sanity grounded. They had been on the island too long, he rationalized, and their desperation was making them crazy. The last thing they needed was a Lord of the Flies situation.

"Oh, I do wish you would come with us, Professor," she said, sadly.

"Mary Ann, you're not going anywhere," he replied.

"None of us are, if Gilligan doesn't get here," the Skipper added.

"You do know that ice cream was dropped from an airplane," the Professor said, in a challenging tone.

"And we'll send the same one back for you, Professor."

Gilligan returned with a pile of useless junk, suddenly realizing that the Eye of the Idol was missing. The Skipper organized separate search parties to find the infernal thing, and he got paired with Ginger. _Great, he thought. Just what I need – a walk to the cave with her. She'll probably try something again._ He wasn't interested in finding the rock at all, but seeing how much it meant to Mary Ann, and that sad voice saying she wished he would come with them, he decided to play along with the ruse.

Soon he found himself at the cave entrance. Ginger tried to get him to do one of her ridiculous method acting exercises, and, to comply, the Professor made some halfhearted mole faces in preparation to spelunk Gilligan's treasure cave.

Ginger triumphantly found the quartz a little while later, after shouting for ten minutes at the Professor to "think like a bat." The day was clearly descending into madness. Method acting for a spelunking expedition…indeed!

The others had gathered their belongings and stood on the lagoon beach in a cluster, waiting to leave. The Professor stood on the shore line, refusing to join them. After Gilligan had nearly lost the stone (again…? Couldn't he have wished for competence?) Mary Ann finally snapped out of it. Staring at the Professor with increasing worry, she realized in that moment that if they all left, he could die all alone. He barely knew how to cook for himself, and he would certainly have no idea how to bake those pies he loved so much. The Professor had been so kind and sweet to her since their shipwreck, and the thought of him being all alone and vulnerable made her upset.

"I'm not going," she said, crossing her arms.

"After I reserved first class passage for seven people?" Mr. Howell challenged.

"Oh, it's not fair to leave the Professor here by himself. Excuse me." Mary Ann hopped back onto the beach and ran over to him, putting her arm around his waist.

For a brief second, the Professor stood in astonishment. Mary Ann would do that for him?

"Oh my dear, you can't live on an island alone with him, it's not proper!" Mrs Howell insisted. She shoved Thurston onto the shore to "chaperone them," then decided she couldn't leave the island without her husband.

Mary Ann had let go of the Professor's waist, afraid that Ginger might say something mocking about it, but the Professor kept his hand firmly on hers, right above her hip. Talk about improper! But she stood firm, letting him keep it there. It was the first time she really felt as if she belonged. Despite Ginger's pleas for the Professor to join them, he remained steadfastly by Mary Ann's side until Ginger relented.

Finally, they all convinced him to come along, and to humor them, he joined them on the shore to be "wished off the island." If his colleagues had seen him stoop to this nonsense, he would have been laughed right out of his teaching position.

And then the island had broken off.

So much for the Eye of the Idol.

-o0o-

After the Castaways had made it back to the camp, laughing at the day's events, they all went back to their respective huts to lick their wounds of pride. They all felt varying degrees of shame for catering to their irrational thinking.

The Professor lay on his cot, reading his butterfly book, when there was a soft knock on his door.

"Yes?" he asked, fully expecting Ginger to try some funny business again.

"Professor? Can I come in?" It was Mary Ann.

"Come in, come in," he said, happily, throwing the book on the table and motioning for her to sit next to him at his work table. They sat together in an awkward silence for a few seconds, then began talking at once.

"I'm sorry I lost all sense of reason," she began. "I feel so silly. I got deluded. Let's blame the tropical heat and exhaustion."

"I'm sorry I…mocked everyone," he faltered. Then he cleared his throat and began again as Mary Ann looked at the ground. "Mary Ann, I admit I was extremely touched by your gesture today."

"Well, it was the right thing to do," she replied. "I couldn't bear the thought of you here all alone, with no one to bake you these." She reached next to her and handed him a coconut crème pie and a fork.

The Professor smiled at her as he took the pie. He took a bite. Delicious.

"Nor could I imagine a life here without your pies," he replied, with his mouth full. "I meant what I said when I said you weren't leaving here. I intended to mean that literally, but the truth is, I wouldn't enjoy being here without you to talk to."

Mary Ann blushed. "You're the brains of this operation. Without you, we'd be doomed. Hang on, you have something on the corner of your mouth," she said, dabbing at a little bit of whipped coconut cream. "There, that's better."

The Professor put down the fork. He was suddenly aware of her presence, the smell of coconuts he forever associated with her, her bright, lovely speaking voice in his ear. She looked at him fondly as he instinctively put his hand over hers once again.

"Mary Ann…I…"

Suddenly they heard Gilligan shouting. Another invasion of headhunters.

Whatever the Professor had to say, it would have to wait. Danger was afoot.


	5. Chapter 5

The conversation at dinner had revolved (as usual) around Ginger, who was irrationally angry at some woman who had won a beauty contest. Mary Ann didn't see much point in this, since Ginger was stuck in the middle of nowhere anyway, but the others had started talking about the women on the island. The Skipper proudly declared Ginger the most beautiful girl on the island to stop her pouting. This annoyed Mary Ann and the Professor a bit; they were getting a little tired of Ginger's petulant routine. Mr Howell loyally defended the beauty and charm of his Lovey. But the Professor shocked them all, when he stood up and interjected his own opinion, point blank, in one of his most eloquent speeches ever.

He looked down upon her fondly. "In addition to face and figure, there's a lady here who also has sweetness and warmth. The lady I would pick as the most beautiful in the world, Mary Ann."

The WORLD, not just the island.

Mary Ann sighed as her heart began to pound, and meekly said thank you. It was sweet of him to be so nice about her, but she figured the Professor only included her so she wouldn't feel left out. Clearly Ginger was the most beautiful, no questions asked. She'd made a whole career out of her beauty, while Mary Ann had worked as a store clerk for minimum wages.

The others began arguing about the qualities of the different women on the island, making Mary Ann feel increasingly uncomfortable. The Skipper tried to diffuse the situation, accidentally creating a backhanded situation, which set off a whole new round of arguments over something so trivial.

"I said Mrs Howell is the most beautiful creature in the world, and that's PRECISELY WHAT I MEANT!" Mr Howell pounded the table in anger.

"I beg your pardon - when I said Mary Ann was the most beautiful in the world, that's exactly what I meant," the Professor countered, gallantly.

"I know, I know. Let's have a beauty contest here on the island, and we can pick a…a Miss Castaway," Gilligan proposed.

Of course this idea appealed to Ginger, Mary Ann thought. Suddenly, the smidgen of newly-gained confidence she'd gained from the Professor's compliment, coupled with Ginger's squeals of confident delight, set Mary Ann's competitive streak in motion.

"I think it's a MAAAAHVELLOUS idea," bellowed Mrs Howell.

Mary Ann jumped up and cheerfully agreed to the notion of a beauty contest. Things had been a little dull on the island since that weird Polynesian marriage test Gilligan had been subjected to a couple of weeks prior. Might as well have something interesting to do.

"See you on the runway, girls," Mary Ann challenged. She got up to fetch water for the dishes. The Professor watched her walk away as Mr Howell chastised Gilligan for suggesting it.

-o0o-

Mary Ann sat in front of the mirror, toying with her hair. It was no use; she could never compare to the glamourous Ginger Grant. She was short, curvy, and brunette. Maybe she was the sweet little girl next door, but never an alluring sex kitten. Just the thought of trying to sound as wanton as Ginger made her stomach turn. Mary Ann had always been intimidated by women like Ginger – women who always seemed to smell nice, look perfect, and wrap men around her little finger. All Mary Ann could think of for seduction techniques was make pies.

And she didn't know the first thing about beauty contests. She knew the cards were stacked against her. Mrs Howell had a husband who would bribe his way into anything. Ginger perpetually looked like she had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Mary Ann thought about how ridiculous it was that she had volunteered herself into this mess. She hadn't a chance in hell, but it amped up her determination to win, just to say she could do something other than make people's meals and do their laundry.

Knowing Ginger was over in the Skipper's hut practicing her acting scenes, she decided to indulge in a little mockery. She drooped her eyelashes and, doing her best Ginger Grant impression, started doing an overly dramatic scene of her own.

"Ohhh PROFESSOR," she droned, "You are such a biiig, strong he-maaan. And widdle Ginger-Winger is so HELPLESS. I can't take this dress off by myself, I need your big, strong hands." She made kissy faces in the mirror. Suddenly she was startled out of her reverie by peals of hearty laughter behind her.

The Professor, who had been passing by the hut, overheard his name through the window and peeked in to watch Mary Ann do her Ginger impression.

"Sorry, Mary Ann," he said, coming into the hut. Mary Ann chuckled, embarrassed that she had been caught, and motioned for him to sit next to her.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. That was awfully mean of me."

"You certainly have a talent for mimicry," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I always knew you were a wit, but who knew sweet little Mary Ann had such a….streak?"

Her face grew redder by the minute. Oh, this was embarrassing.

"Don't worry, dear," he continued, chuckling, "Your secret is safe with me. But we won't use that particular act in the talent portion of the program."

Mary Ann smiled, shifted in her chair, and tried playing with her hair some more. She slumped when the reflection in the mirror didn't show anything particularly desirable.

"Oh, Professor, I feel like such a fool for going along with this. I don't know why I did it."

"If I did anything to embarrass you out there tonight, I'm terribly sorry."

"It was nice of you to come to my rescue," she said, taking a couple of large curlers out of the bag. "Even though it's not true, it was nice to hear someone come to my defense for once."

The Professor felt stung by her words. She really didn't know how lovely she was, he thought. Or how much he thought of her. He realized that Mary Ann really saw herself as a homely farm girl straight out of Li'l Abner, and Ginger's self-absorption and extroversion didn't help much. The Professor handed her a curler.

"I won't hear you talk about yourself like that," he said, as Mary Ann fastened a curler to her hair. He turned to face her. "What I said at dinner tonight, I sincerely meant. To me, you really are the most beautiful woman in the world. Ginger possesses the classical scientific proportions that are aesthetically pleasing to our demographic, certainly, and Mrs Howell is certainly charming in her own strange way, but your qualities outshine theirs, in my opinion. Oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you cry." Mary Ann stopped fiddling with the curlers and dabbed at the tears in her eyes.

_You've done it again, Hinkley_, he thought, concerned that he was crumbling her already-fragile exterior. Why could he never do anything right?

"Oh, I'm not upset, Professor," she said. "I'm just happy you're such a good friend to me."

The Professor smiled kindly and got up to leave.

"Now, make sure you get some rest. We have work to do tomorrow to get you ready. Gilligan decided to have the contest Friday night, so that gives us three days to prepare. Promise me one thing?" He touched her arm gently.

"What's that?"

"Amuse me with your Ginger Grant impression sometime when we're out picking blackberries?"

Mary Ann laughed. "Alright, as long as you do your CARY Grant impression."

"Deal. Good night, my dear."

"Good night, Professor."

Ginger came into the hut just as the Professor was leaving. She tried grinning at him seductively, but he nodded, businesslike, and walked right past her. "Good night Ginger," he said politely.

Ginger shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the table.

"Getting a head start?" she asked Mary Ann, picking up one of her lipsticks and fiddling with the tube.

"Getting to bed, actually. Long day tomorrow." Mary Ann replied, walking behind the changing screen and changing into her nightshirt.

"Mmmm," Ginger replied, examining her nails. "I'm glad we're doing this competition. I haven't felt this competitive in a long time. I used to get into these great catfights with the girls in the Miss California contest…I…ooh, sorry," Ginger said. "I don't want to fight, Mary Ann."

Mary Ann came out from behind the changing screen and wiped down her face with some pineapple extract toner she'd made. She rubbed coconut oil into her skin. It felt soft. "Me neither, Ginger. But we should get some sleep. Good night."

-o0o-

Unbeknownst to Mary Ann, the Professor had gotten to work straight away on some beauty concoctions. Consulting his copy of "Tropical Home Remedies," he worked out the formula a makeshift seaweed extract shampoo. That night he gathered some hibiscus flowers to make a homemade lip tint, and he raided the blackberry bushes on the eastern side of the island to make a sort of darkening agent that he knew had been long used by the Bantushi tribespeople of one of the surrounding islands.

He didn't know what time it was when he finally finished his homemade cosmetics, probably about 1 in the morning, by the position of the stars, but he was confident that the ingredients would bring out Mary Ann's natural facial attributes beautifully. He closed up shop, stripped to his boxers, and climbed into bed.

_That night he dreamt of Mary Ann. He had a glorious vision of his little friend in a 1930s Busby Berkley dance number, like the ones he remembered as a kid. She was mesmerizing, glamourous, and talented beyond words in his dream. She wore a lovely, form-fitting sequinned dress with a marabou boa and rhinestones adorning her throat and ears._

_He appeared next to her dressed in a top hat and tails, like Fred Astaire, and together they danced in a dreamy romantic number, perfectly in sync and gazing into each other's eyes. They broke into a swing number and tapped their way off stage, where he captured her in a searing kiss._

-o0o-

In her own hut, Mary Ann had her own dream, taking place a century before the Professor's vision.

_She was plain, ordinary Jane Eyre, and the Professor was brooding, moody Mr. Rochester. She wore a plain, ugly grey dress and worked hard and tried to be nice to everyone. Mr Rochester fell in love with her and took her onto the moors to kiss her in the moonlight. His passion surged through her like a lightning bolt._

Mary Ann lapsed into a dreadful cockney dialect in her sleep, mumbling over and over, "Oh Mister Rochester!" until Ginger walked over and shook her out of her dream.

"Mary Ann!" she scolded. "Wake up, you're too loud."

"Oh, sorry, Ginger," she said, groggily. "I was having a dream."

"So I heard," Ginger said, heading back to bed with her blanket wrapped around her nude body. "Sounds like a lively one this time."

"Yeah," Mary Ann said blissfully, laying her head against her pillow once more, hoping she'd return to her dream when she fell back asleep. Unfortunately, she dreamt no more that night.

-o0o-

The sun rose, and, leaving Ginger to snore softly in her own sleep, Mary Ann got up to gather turtle eggs for breakfast. The Professor woke soon afterward and, after dressing, joined her by the lagoon.

"Good morning," she said brightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," he replied. "I was…inspired for your talent part. Do you know how to dance?"

"A little," she replied, giggling nervously. "Why?"

"Oh, just a little idea I had. Need some help?" He suddenly felt nervous – he felt sure that Mary Ann could read his mind and immediately know that he was envisioning her in that dress of his dream. He shifted his feet in the sand a little, unable to look her directly in the eyes.

"Sure, you can take the bucket over there," she said cheerfully. _A little too cheerfully_, she thought. She was sure the Professor would know that she had one of THOSE dreams about him. A blush spread across her cheeks, remembering the passion of Dream Professor.

The two carried the buckets of eggs back to the common area. The Professor glanced over at his companion. The sunrise gleaned on Mary Ann's face, making her look like a pre-Raphaelite painting. His breath hitched as he took in the lovely sight. He cleared his throat to disguise his…whatever the feeling was that had washed over him.

Mary Ann looked up at him and, for a brief moment, pictured him as Cary Grant.

"Ready to get to work?" he asked.

"Ready," she smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

That afternoon, the Professor and Mary Ann went to the lagoon. Mary Ann's swimming skills were negligible, but she gamely agreed to try the Professor's tread-water scheme for isometric exercise. The Professor cheerfully clipped the fishing line to her bathing suit and directed her to go into the lagoon.

His idea worked…when it was working. While she was out there swimming in place, Gilligan happened by and thought the Professor had landed a large fish. He really wanted to help, but, in classic Gilligan form, catastrophe happened. Suddenly they heard a snap and something landed in the Professor's face.

Mary Ann's bathing suit.

Mary Ann began shrieking from the cold and shock that her suit had come off, and was overcome with mortification. The men closed their eyes in embarrassment. The Professor didn't know what to do in this situation – Ginger and the Skipper were off rehearsing somewhere, and Mr Howell and Lovey were on the other side of the island.

"You get her," said Gilligan, running off.

Mary Ann finally calmed down and assessed her situation. The suit was snapped in half: there was no way she would be able to put it on in the water, she was too clumsy a swimmer for that. Suddenly a sharp pain crept up her leg – a really terrible charley horse. She howled in agony. This was a terrible idea! Now she was paying for this stupid beauty contest!

"Professor, I have a cramp," she called out, wincing. Suddenly the pain shot up even more intensely as her foot got caught in something, and she went under. She struggled back up above water and shrieked. "HELP!" She started sinking again. None of the other Castaways were around. Gilligan had torn off to the caves by that point.

The imminent danger set the Professor in motion and he jumped in to rescue her. After a frightening minute or two of not seeing her immediately, he dislodged her foot from a seaweed clump and managed to get her safely back to shore. His SCUBA training had come in handy.

He laid her on the sand and took off her bathing cap, and administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

"Oh, thank heavens," he gasped, when she finally spluttered out some water, shook her head, and sat up. "You're alright, Mary Ann. You're alright." As she looked into his worried eyes, it suddenly dawned on her what had happened. She began to shake and cry from shock. Suddenly they realized at the same time that she was completely nude. The Professor quickly took off his shirt. Turning his head, he put it around her, gently buttoning up the front so she was covered.

"This was all my fault," he said, over and over. "I am so sorry, Mary Ann. This was a disaster."

"It's alright, Professor, you've already seen all of me. No need to be embarrassed." He looked back at her and smiled. She coughed up a little more water. So much for beauty pageants. She was about as elegant as one of Gilligan's turtle friends. "Not a disaster," she croaked. "You saved my life."

"But I was the one who put you in danger. I can't forgive myself. To think I…we could have lost you in such a stupid accident."

"The idea was fine, the execution a little off." She laughed a bit, just to diffuse the situation. "But from now on, let's just focus on a little dance or something, huh? Okay. I'm decent."

The Professor helped her to her feet and picked up his tote full of cosmetics for her, and they walked back to the huts before the others came back. He followed her into her hut as she quickly changed behind the screen, and placed the cosmetics on the makeshift vanity.

"We can resume the training after I make dinner," she said.

"Make dinner? Heavens, Mary Ann, you almost drowned," he exclaimed. "No, you rest up. Gilligan caught seven lobsters this morning and I can certainly prepare that. Go lie down for a little while. I'll bring you over a book or something."

"I'd like that," she admitted. "Alright. I'll take it easy the rest of the afternoon."

The Professor went over to his hut and fetched a copy of _Hamlet_ for her as she laid down on her little cot, propping her head up on the pillow.

"_Hamlet_?" she laughed, when he returned. "I read this in the eleventh grade."

"Oh, sorry," the Professor said, "I wasn't sure if you were familiar with the story…there's other books…"

"No, no! I love Shakespeare!" she exclaimed. "We read this aloud in our English class. I had to read the part of Laertes. I remember it pretty well." She sat up and affected a deeper voice.

_That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,_

_Cries "Cuckold!" to my father, brands the "harlot"_

_Even here between the chaste unsmirchèd brow_

_Of my true mother._

The Professor laughed heartily. "Laertes? YOU?"

She grinned cheekily. "I guess I'm not the first person you think of when it comes to avenging my family's deaths, am I?"

The Professor wiped his eye and tried to stop laughing. Finally, he controlled himself. "Well, at any rate, it seemed like a more interesting read than the mating cycle of the angle worm. Besides, I'm not finished that chapter yet."

Mary Ann laughed. "As salacious as that sounds, you know me and my soap operas," she said. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Let's not tell anyone what happened today. I know Gilligan knows about the suit, but I don't think it's necessary to upset the others if we told them I almost drowned. I mean, I don't want to take away from your heroism or anything like that," she added, feeling almost guilty.

"Mary Ann, my ego is not that fragile. If Gilligan spills the beans about the suit, we'll just say you came right on out and your modesty was preserved. Hmm?"

Mary Ann smiled. "Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice," she said, winking.

-o0o-

The next day, as the others rehearsed for the competition, Mary Ann and the Professor practiced 'poise' near the cave. Mary Ann had used the Professor's cosmetics, and was pleased to find that they were excellent. She joked that when they returned to civilization, he could easily get a position at Maybelline.

They walked along the beach toward the cave on the north side of the island. There was a nice breeze blowing off the ocean. The Professor carried "World of Insects" under his arm.

"It's such a pretty day," Mary Ann said cheerfully. "I feel like singing!"

"Do you remember anything from scout camp? How about _The Ants Go Marching_?"

Mary Ann lit up and they burst out singing the song together, marching merrily along the shore. The Professor had a pleasant, untrained singing voice, and Mary Ann loved it during the rare times he sang. She didn't think she could carry a tune in a bucket, but she didn't care.

They stopped for a rest.

"You know, I've never entered a beauty contest in my life," she said. "I got voted the class bookworm in my high school senior year. None of the boys ever looked at me."

"I'm sure that's not true," he replied, sitting down on a rock under a tree. She sat next to him. They started drawing in the sand with sticks. "I'm sure there must have been someone."

"Horace," Mary Ann said sadly. "Higgenbotham. But only because his mom made him take me to Homecoming. I accepted my lot in life and figured I'd probably end up a farm wife with twelve kids and a flock of chickens. Winning the contest to Hawaii was the best, most exciting thing that's ever happened to me. And then we had to go get shipwrecked. Isn't it ironic that my favorite book as a girl was _Swiss Family Robinson_?"

"Indeed," the Professor chuckled. "I understand you much better now. You're a bit of a dreamer, aren't you?"

"Always got in trouble for it, too," Mary Ann said. "I wanted to get away from Kansas. Be a great writer, or maybe a teacher like you, but definitely travel. It's been my dream to see London and Paris."

The Professor looked at her wistful face, and immediately wished he had the means to whisk her to those faraway places she dreamt about. The best he could do at the moment was the north caves.

"How about you, Professor?"

"How about me, what?" he asked, snapping out of his reverie.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" The naïveté of her question startled him.

"Actually, not really," the Professor replied, honestly. "I went out with a couple of girls here and there when I was younger, but none of them seemed very interested in what I liked and only wanted affection I wasn't comfortable giving. After a while it was impossible to communicate effectively with any of them. I never found the right sort of woman."

"Ginger thinks she's the right sort of woman," Mary Ann challenged.

"What a piece of work is Ginger!" the Professor quoted.

"Hamlet again!" Mary Ann picked up a stone and threw it toward the water.

The Professor stared out at the sea, lost in thought. Mary Ann assumed he was thinking about one of those women, perhaps having regrets about never settling down with one of them. _Maybe he's thinking about Ginger, _she thought,_ and wishing he hadn't opened his big mouth for the homely little dummy who loses a bathing suit and almost drowns._

She swallowed and shifted in her seat. The rock was getting uncomfortable and the sun was getting higher.

"I'm sure that when we get back to civilization, you'll find the right woman," Mary Ann said softly.

"Hmm? Perhaps," the Professor replied. He turned toward her and watched her draw in the sand with her toe. She had drawn a palm tree. "Come on, let's practice your poise and speech." They got up and continued their walk.

-o0o-

They reached the caves fifteen minutes later. The Professor placed "World of Insects" on her head and told her to pretend she was walking down the runway. After a few slips, it finally worked. She was moving very gracefully.

"Just think tall!" he encouraged.

"Oh, I appreciate all the work you've gone through, Professor, but it's no use. Ginger's just too glamourous and Mrs Howell is just too darn cultured."

"Now, I will not tolerate negative thinking. Do you, or do you not want to be Miss Castaway?"

"Well, of course I do, but do you really think I can get Gilligan's vote?"

"Oh, that reminds me." He thumbed his chin thoughtfully. "I was a bit harsh this morning on our uncommitted delegate."

"I'm sure Gilligan will be fair," Mary Ann replied. The Professor shook his head.

"All the same, we need to remedy that. We need Gilligan."

"Okay, I have a plan," Mary Ann said. "Why don't we give him a wonderful, healthy dinner? If the Howells would stoop to bribing for votes, why can't we do a little of our own? We can give him a real feast!"

"And I can appeal to his reasoning," the Professor replied. "All bets are off, as far as I'm concerned. How much do you want to bet that Ginger's already down there cooking up a lobster or something?"

Mary Ann rolled her eyes. "Like she has anything to worry about."

"She might. You never know with Gilligan."

"True. Alright, let's work out a plan for dinner."

They headed back down to camp, hand in hand.


	7. Chapter 7

The dinner bribery plan failed spectacularly. As predicted, the Skipper, Ginger, and the Howells came to the same conclusions and attempted to stuff poor Gilligan to the gills. Despite everyone's insistence that their meals were the best, Gilligan refused to be swayed.

"Well, then, my dear, we will take our meals elsewhere!" shouted the Professor, yanking the plate of hard-prepared dinner and taking Mary Ann's arm with his other hand.

They walked down to the banana grove and sat together on a rock underneath a large palm tree.

"We might as well eat up," Mary Ann said, taking her fork and stabbing at the salad the Professor and she had prepared. "I admit, today's walk did make me hungry."

"I'm ravenous, myself," the Professor replied. "Despite this hiccup, I have to say, I'm proud of you."

"Really?" Mary Ann asked, spearing a piece of lobster. "I'm sorry I have been so defeatist about all of this."

"Yes," he replied, swallowing some herbs. "Your sincerity and charm is radiant. Now, if we can figure out a little dance routine, you will be sure to sway Gilligan. …I've seen how he looks at you," he added, testing the waters to see if Mary Ann noticed.

Mary Ann looked at the Professor quizzically. "You mean cross-eyed?" she asked. "Honestly, Professor."

"You don't think he's interested in you?"

"If he is, he sure has a funny way of showing it. Comparing me to a gorilla, running off when we peck him on the cheek. Gilligan's like my older brother. I admit I thought he was cute when we arrived here, but now that I've lived and known him for all these months, yecch."

The Professor laughed. "I shudder to think of what your opinion of ME might be." He looked down at his shoes, feeling his face grow hot.

"I think you're the kindest, most thoughtful man I've ever known," she replied truthfully, squeezing his arm. "I love everyone here, of course, but I think you – what I mean is – oh, you know what I mean." she finished. The Professor blushed and remained silent, afraid that Mary Ann could hear his heart pounding against his chest.

"Here, Mary Ann, take the last of dinner, I'm full," he said. "After all, you need to keep up your strength for practicing tonight." Mary Ann thanked him and ate the rest of the salad.

"It's just that I really like spending time with you, Professor," she continued. "I always got so jealous when Ginger and you go off exploring the island and all the amazing wildlife and plants together, and I'm stuck at the cooking pot half the day shucking oysters and butchering and making laundry soap. We never saw animals or plants like this in Kansas, that's for sure. And…you know so much about these things." She put the platter down at her feet and gazed down at her lap, unable to look at the Professor.

The Professor felt guilty. He had no idea Mary Ann was so interested in biology. She'd never made mention of it before. He put his hand on hers and squeezed it.

"My dear, I had no idea you wanted to go with me! I wish you'd said something."

"Me too," she replied. "But who else is going to get the work done?"

"Well, I think it's high time Ginger and Mrs Howell pulled their weight with the work around here. I've been trying to make things easier with the inventions, but none of that will work if they won't. Say, Mary Ann, you know a lot about butchering, right?"

"Yes, we did it twice a year on our farm."

"I'd love to learn how, if we ever catch that boar. I've only ever dissected small animals. If I can learn how to butcher meat, at least two of us could do it. I've been working on that food preservative from Kapatchess berries."

"Of course I can teach you!" Mary Ann exclaimed. "It's hard work, but you'll learn fast. I'm glad there's something I can teach you, Professor!"

"I'd love to see you get the due recognition you deserve. A toast," he said, raising his coconut cup, "to Gilligan making the right decision tomorrow night." They clinked coconuts.

He stood up, patted his full stomach, and paced around, trying to think of more ideas. "You say you can dance a little?" he asked.

"Just a little. I had to do a soft shoe routine for my high school talent show. I lost to Anita Barrow and Carol Dinkins because I tripped halfway through the dance. They sang the national anthem and swayed the judge, who was a very patriotic man." Mary Ann slumped her chin on her hands, remembering the embarrassment. "Sometimes I still have bad dreams about that night, and everyone laughing at me. I haven't been on stage since."

The Professor snapped his fingers. "I have it. Can you recreate that dance?"

"I think so, it wasn't very hard." She got up on her feet and kicked off her shoes.

"Okay, let's see what you can do. I'll sit here and watch."

"Promise you won't laugh if I mess up?"

"Scout's honor," the Professor replied, with the Boy Scout salute. Mary Ann smiled and instructed him to hum a little melody so she could concentrate on the steps.

She managed to work out a simple routine, nothing too complicated, but she frowned the entire time, trying to remember how it went.

"Smile, Mary Ann!" the Professor encouraged. "It's not a tap dirge." Memories of his dream surfaced as she gamely lit up her face with a grin and kept on going. The Professor sang out a little melody. Mary Ann got the steps right, but something was still off about her performance. Suddenly he stopped humming and snapped his fingers.

"Not bad, not bad at all, but I think you can do better. It seems you're having trouble with counting rhythm," he said. "And my singing certainly can't help. Let's go back to my hut and try it with the phonograph."

"Okay," Mary Ann said, picking up their dishes. "I never was good at music."

-o0o-

They walked back to the Professor's hut and he set it up, with one of the Howell's waltz records.

"Now, come here," the Professor instructed. He and Mary Ann assumed a dancing position. "You need to feel the rhythm, it's all mathematically based. Just counting. One-two-three, one-two-three." Mary Ann caught on quickly, despite looking down at their feet in fear that she would accidentally trip over them.

"Dear, look up at me," the Professor said. "Just trust your steps. It's okay to make a mistake if it happens. One-two-three. One-two-three. Say it with me."

They counted together, and finally, they were able to dance quite nicely together. Mary Ann smiled as she got the steps right.

Suddenly Gilligan burst through the door.

"Music! Oh boy, music! No one told me there was a party tonight! Oh."

He had knocked the Professor to the floor as he ran into the hut. The Professor mustered whatever strength he had to keep from yelling at Gilligan and ruining any chances for Mary Ann. Mary Ann and Gilligan helped him to his feet. He brushed the sand off of his trousers.

"Gilligan, we're practicing for tomorrow night," Mary Ann said.

"Oh, I was just walking around. Everyone's busy rehearsing. Well, since no one's around right now, I guess I'll just go hang out with Gladys."

"Gladys?" asked the Professor, confusedly.

"His gorilla friend," Mary Ann explained. "Okay, Gilligan, see you later."

Gilligan took off and the Professor took Mary Ann back in his arms. They danced for a couple of minutes before Mr. Howell burst through the door.

"You CAD! You SCOUNDREL!" Mr Howell thundered.

"What did I do?" asked the Professor.

"You know darn well!" Mr Howell shouted. "Using the competition's foxtrot records for training! Why, I ought to have you hanged for this treachery!"

Mary Ann walked over to the record player and started to take it off, but the Professor stopped her.

"Mr Howell," the Professor said, "I assure you there is nothing against the rules for using a record. Anyone's record. There aren't really even any guidelines at all."

"Well, it was worth a shot," Mr Howell replied. "It's martini time for me." He sauntered out of the hut. Mary Ann started the record once more, but had lost her concentration.

"Ohhhh Professor, I can't get it right," she wailed. He took her in his arms once more and started counting. One-two-three, one-two-three. His deep, rational voice calmed her nerves and she finally got the hang of it. He even dipped her, to her surprise. After a while, they applied her counting to her soft shoe routine and it looked much prettier than before. At about 11 pm, they decided to call it a night.

"Where did you learn how to dance?" she asked, sitting next to him on his cot, rubbing her sore feet.

"I…watched a lot of movies as a kid," he replied, truthfully. "I always have enjoyed the mathematical aesthetics of choreography, but I never found a very good dance partner - "

"I know. Sorry I'm so rotten at this," Mary Ann interrupted. "I should have stuck to singing."

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I meant to say…I never found a dance partner BEFORE." Mary Ann relaxed a bit and smiled.

"You're a wonderful dancer," Mary Ann said. "I've learned so many new surprising things about you the past couple of days. I already knew you were an accomplished recorder player – "

"Oh, go on," the Professor laughed.

"But dancer, too! You don't fool me, Professor. You might spout out mathematical equations and pretend you don't know the first thing about frivolities, but you really are a romantic at heart."

"I suppose I am," he replied, getting up, bowing, and offering his hand. "One more before we retire?"

She got up, put on a slower record, and they began dancing. He held her close against him as she put her head against his chest. She didn't want this to ever end. The Professor silently agreed. He smiled down at her and their eyes met. He brushed a stray curl of hair from her forehead.

"Professor, there's something I've been meaning to say…I…" she began, but they were interrupted by the door to the hut bursting open. It was Ginger.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt," Ginger started, looking poutier than usual. "Mary Ann, I need you to sew the hem on my costume. The Skipper stepped on it earlier when we were practicing my scene from _Revenge Of The Arachnid_. Did you see it? I played the beautiful young secretary who was brutally kidnapped by Spider People." She assumed the position of being caught in a web as Mary Ann put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, alright!" Mary Ann said angrily. "No one can ever say Mary Ann Summers doesn't play fair!" She looked at the Professor sadly, apologized for the hasty leave, and followed Ginger back to their hut.

The Professor laid on his cot, exhausted and happy, thinking about how lovely it was to have Mary Ann dancing in his arms. He dozed off with the happiest of smiles, and slept the happiest of slumbers.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a knock on Mary Ann's door the next morning.

"Come in?" Mary Ann said, sitting at her vanity, a pencil in her mouth and several sheets of discarded paper surrounding her. Her hair, usually in pigtails, hung loose, and she wore her gingham frock. "Oh, hi, Professor. I'm just writing."

Ginger had left an hour ago to practice her song with the Skipper, and the Howells were still asleep – Mrs Howell had said something about beauty sleep. Gilligan was out by the lagoon, fishing.

"Writing your speech?" the Professor asked, sitting down on the chair next to her. Mary Ann was too preoccupied with composing a speech to really notice him. She tapped the pencil on the table and looked over her words. They sounded so bland. She handed him the paper and asked him to read it to her out loud so she could hear it.

"_I would like a world with no troubles, the kindness of strangers, and world peace. We should all just get along._ Hmm. Not a bad start, although your grammar is a bit fuzzy. You said you'd like a world without the kindness of strangers and world peace, the way it's written."

"Oh, that's what happens when I pull an all-nighter. I was sure that Ginger would come up with something more sophisticated, and Mrs Howell has that cultured Midatlantic accent that makes everything sound fancy. I don't even know how to write a beauty pageant speech."

"I admit I haven't the foggiest myself, having never seen one, but I imagine that they would write something that makes the contestant look charming and intelligent, correct?"

"I guess so."

"Then naturally, you'll do fine. Let's embellish this speech a bit, shall we?"

After a few scribbles and notations, they came up with the perfect beauty pageant speech. Mary Ann read it aloud.

_I would like a world without strife, universal harmony, and international goodwill. Where the spirit of brotherhood enriches all of mankind forever. Thank you._

"I like this, Professor. I just hope I can remember all of it when I get on stage. It's one thing reading it when the paper is in front of you, but sometimes I get so nervous in front of people."

"It's just us, dear. Nothing to worry about. We want you to do your best. Now, you've got your routine in order? And your evening gown?"

"I had to take in one of the dresses from that box that washed ashore, it was for a woman much taller than me – but the color is pretty. Bright green."

"Great. Well, I promised the others I would get the stage ready for tonight. I'm going to hang the curtain. Just keep practicing, you will get it. See you at dinner."

He got up and left. Mary Ann got up and watched him walk away. The Professor had been so wonderful to her the past couple of days, she thought.

Mary Ann hadn't the first clue about romance – all she knew was soap opera story lines and plots from old books and plays. She had always assumed that she'd be romanced at the store by one of her high school classmates, get married early, and have a couple of kids by now. And since getting shipwrecked, her idea of romance soured quickly with the sheer bad luck of getting marooned with Ginger Grant, international sex symbol. She assumed that if a man were in love with a woman, he would give her flowers, shower her hand and arm with kisses, and tell her he'd lasso the moon for her. Instead, she had a man who made her a washing machine agitator.

And cosmetics.

And a sewing machine.

And…oh dear. Her face reddened, remembering the incident with the bathing suit the other day, and realizing he had given her mouth to mouth resuscitation, which was almost like – oh goodness!

_Do I have feelings for him? Does he feel the same way about me? I've been thinking about him a lot lately, and I swear last night that something was happening between us before Gilligan…oh, don't be silly. I'm ten years younger than him and he probably thinks of me as a little sister. Just like every other man. But maybe…_

"Don't be silly, Mary Ann," she whispered to herself. "Be sensible. He is your friend and he wants you to succeed. Leave it at that." She went outside to get started on lunch to take her mind off of the contest that night.

-o0o-

The Professor finished hanging up the curtain and getting the seats arranged by the stage a couple of hours later. He looked at the curtain. Mary Ann had made it herself, out of unsalvageable clothes and rags. She was quite proud of her creativity and handiwork.

_Poor girl has been working so hard all week, _he thought. He wanted so badly for something good to finally happen to Mary Ann. He hoped his appeal to Gilligan would help. He got angry when he thought about how much she did for everyone, and no one ever really recognized her efforts, or only knew her for her pie making. He was glad he got to learn more about her the past couple of days. He was so happy that she had shown an interest in things that mattered to him. But there was no way she would ever feel romantically inclined toward him – I'm always the egghead, he thought, sadly. Always with his nose in a book.

The Professor always assumed that if he were to marry, it would be someone who shared his passion for science; someone who wasn't squeamish, someone who could understand him and support his endeavours and not require constant attention. As it had always eluded him at home, he assumed the same was happening on the island. But after these past couple of days, something was changing between him and Mary Ann. He'd always want to protect her from harm, of course, but she really was a mysterious creature. And he liked being with her. He tried not to think about the incident at the lagoon, but had to admit that despite the danger she'd been in, seeing her…in the altogether, as it were…had certainly affected him. He couldn't get her out of his mind.

He wiped the sweat off his brow and decided to do something nice for her himself.

He found her practicing her dance by the cooking pot. She was counting the steps to herself – one, two three, tap – when she whirled around and saw the Professor.

"Oh! Ha ha, you caught me," she said. "Again. What are these?"

He held out the bouquet of hibiscus flowers he was clutching toward her, almost robotically. She squealed in delight.

"For you. I believe it is customary for a performer to receive a bouquet of flowers before the ceremony, is it not?" He spat this out in a quick sentence, suddenly self-conscious.

Mary Ann laughed. "I suppose so. They're beautiful. What are they?"

The Professor's nerves started to make him babble. "These particular blossoms are a genus of flowering plants in the mallow family, _Malvaceae_. The name is derived from the Greek, _hibiskos_…" He finally relaxed. "But –well, I also thought you deserved a present for your hard work this week."

She took them and buried her nose in the fragrant flowers. "Oh, Professor, you're the one doing all the real work. Thank you." She peeked inside her hut to check if Ginger was there. She was – practicing her song. Mary Ann's shoulders slumped as she turned around, holding the flowers to her side. She was a goner.

"What's wrong?" he asked coming over to her.

"Professor, you won't be disappointed if I don't win tonight? I mean – it must mean a lot to you if I do, won't it?"

"Remember what I said about positive thinking, Mary Ann," he said softly.

"Oh, I know. I'm really trying. It's hard to break a longstanding habit."

"Yes, my dear – I have been meaning to say something –" He opened his mouth to continue, but the Skipper ambled past them to knock on the girls' hut.

"You ready for tonight?" the Skipper asked, pleased as punch. "Ginger's gonna be a knockout! You should see her do this little number around the curtain – well, you will tonight! It's gonna be great!" His enthusiasm burst over. The Professor put his finger to his lips and the Skipper realized he had said something wrong. Mary Ann clutched the flowers and walked off silently toward the lagoon.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," the Skipper said, ruefully. "I didn't mean to hurt Mary Ann's feelings."

"Skipper, you have no idea what you just did," the Professor spat out angrily. He whirled around and followed Mary Ann toward the munitions pit.

-o0o-

"Mary Ann, wait," the Professor called after her. She was sitting under a bush, crying.

"I just want this to be over. I can't believe how nervous I am," she said. "This has been such a bad idea. I want to punch Gilligan sometimes.

The Professor sat down next to her and put his arms around her.

"Mary Ann, you don't have to do this. This was all my fault for opening my big mouth. No – wait, I didn't mean that. I meant to say – we can tell them it's off."

"No, it wouldn't be fair." She turned and looked at him. "I'm going to do my best and not worry about how much better they are than I am. I am just going to go up there and have some fun. And not worry about making a mistake."

"Oh, Mary Ann, stop that nonsense. I can tell you right now that you are beautiful, and kind, and smart, and funny, and…" He stopped suddenly as she looked up into his eyes. "And those are only some of the reasons why I…you…you…are always going to be a winner in my eyes."

"And I really have had so much fun getting to know you better, and finally doing something other than shucking oysters." Suddenly, her self-confidence surged. She wiped her eyes and got up. "Gosh darn it, Professor, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"I do? I mean…yes, I learned that at UCLA."

Mary Ann laughed. "Okay. I think I can do this. Deep breaths. I'm going to go get ready."

-o0o-

The pageant, of course, was a disaster. Between the catcalls, wolf whistles and obnoxious clapping, Mr Howell ruined Mary Ann's dance and the whole thing devolved into a circus of fighting between everyone. Gilligan diffused the situation by proclaiming his gorilla friend as the winner. Mary Ann was indignant at first, but realized that this was one of the few sensible things Gilligan had ever done. She wanted to hug him for it.

She was just glad it was over. She had done her best, and that was all there was to it. She changed back into her regular clothes and decided to take a walk by the beach to rest. The men had gone down to harass Gilligan about his notes. She didn't notice the Professor coming up behind her. He was still wearing his jacket, the one she liked with the leather patches on the elbows.

"Mary Ann!" he called, finally catching up to her. She turned around.

"Hello," she said. "It's over."

"It's over," the Professor smiled. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I did my best. And that's all I could do."

"I've been meaning to ask you something," the Professor said, looking around to see if anyone was around. The coast was clear.

"If it's about the sewing machine, it's working like a charm. I don't know how you come up with these ideas, but they're brilliant!"

"No, no, not that. Come with me. I want to show you something," he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the north shore. She shivered a little from the sea breeze. "Here, put this on." He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

"Where are we going?" she asked, over the roar of the ocean. She clutched the jacket around her.

"Here," he said, taking her to the edge of the water. "It's a clear night. Jook at the sky."

"It's very starry. Beautiful night."

"Do you know about constellations?" he asked, eagerly.

"A little, but they're all different at home. We're in the southern hemisphere."

"Exactly." He pointed up. "That's Pyxis, the ship's compass."

"The Skipper would like that one," she said. "What's that formation over there, the one shaped a snake?"

"Hydrus, the sea serpent. And that's – oh, Mary Ann." He stopped, looking at her in the full moonlight reflected in her eyes. He took her by the shoulders and looked her square in the eye.

"I wanted to know if you'll –"

KABOOOOOOM!

A large explosion came from the hut area. Mary Ann screamed. They sprinted toward camp, fearful that someone might be seriously injured or killed.

In reality, Gilligan had simply left the pot covered while cooking glue again.


	9. Chapter 9

A few weeks passed, and the Castaways had a few troubles to keep everyone occupied. Aside from the usual island dangers, there were some strange occurrences.

First, a South American dictator landed on the island and caused a ruckus, until they wrestled away his gun. He went back to his home country, but nothing came of their promised rescue – he'd been exiled once again.

Next, a satellite that had been destined for Mars crash landed, and everyone tried their best to communicate with the home base – but, in true Gilligan fashion, he screwed things up again and they all ended up covered in glue and feathers when the remote camera switched on.

Then, Gilligan won the lottery. Or thought he did, anyway. Apparently he'd bought a ticket somewhere in South America, and hit it rich. The Howells attempted to revamp him into a substitute son, and to show how great a guy he was to everyone, Gilligan decided to invite everyone to the exclusive private country club the Howells had fashioned for themselves. (It was the only time anyone had seen Lovey do any real work.)

The evening of the party, the Professor was determined to tell Mary Ann about his blossoming feelings for her. Everyone agreed to meet up at the gate and enter one by one. First, the Skipper, then Mary Ann, then Ginger, then Gilligan.

The Professor made the cheekiest entry. He dared to call the Howells by their first names, after Mr. Howell called him "the $50K Egghead." He sauntered in, clutching his "World of Facts" book, and sat down next to Mary Ann on the chaise lounge. She looked lovely in her powder blue suit and hair – the prettiest he'd seen her since the pageant. She smiled and made room for him, as the Castaways all talked about how fun it was to go in the Howells' exclusive club. They all thanked Gilligan for his generosity.

"I see you brought World of Facts," purred Ginger. "I'd like to know about the mating traditions of the natives." She leaned toward the Professor, who turned his head toward Mary Ann helplessly. She shrugged and laughed. Since the pageant, she wasn't as intimidated by Ginger anymore. The Professor ignored her and thanked Gilligan again.

"Mary Ann, you…" began the Professor, clutching his book against him, when all of a sudden Howell threw a tantrum over a lost ticket, and began throwing everyone out of the club. The Professor caught up with Mary Ann as everyone stomped back to camp. The others went in their huts, complaining about the Howells' rudeness. The Professor and Mary Ann stayed back and sat on the rock behind the brambles.

"Oooh, that Mr Howell can make me so mad!" Mary Ann grumbled, once they were out of earshot from the others.

"I agree," Professor replied. "No matter, that's just how he is." He propped his elbows on his knees and his chin on his elbows. He wasn't REALLY interested in being included in the stupid country club, but he had been deeply touched by Gilligan's gesture of friendship and inclusion. The whole thing was very silly indeed.

Mary Ann pulled at a leaf and let the branch snap back. "Oh well. Let's change the subject. What have you been working on the past couple of days?"

"I'm testing the extract of the miki-maki flower to see if it could be used as a food preservative. I found a clump of them near the munitions pit the other day, and if my suspicions are correct, it could stretch our food supply for months."

Mary Ann clapped her hands. "Oh, terrific! And if we can do that, it will save a lot of time having to gather things daily. I'm rigging up an herb-drying system in the supply cave like my grandmother had in her attic, which will give me more flavors to work with when I'm cooking!"

The Professor was impressed with Mary Ann's ingenuity. She picked up his book off his lap and thumbed through the pages. There certainly were a lot of facts. He wanted to say something, or make some sort of gesture, but his throat dried up at the notion of revealing how he felt. Finally, he thought of something as he looked at his watch. Nearly 8 PM.

"It's still early. The evening is somewhat cooler tonight, so I thought I might go to the other side of the island to observe the night rituals of the wahoobi birds. Fascinating creatures. Much like the common barn owl. If you're interested, you can join me," he offered.

"Wahoobi birds?" Mary Ann asked. "What on earth are those?"

"Yes, here," the Professor said, flipping through the book and landing on the entry. Sure enough, there was the wahoobi bird, a strange looking animal that appeared to be the source of many of the feathers Gilligan had been collecting for Mrs Howell a few weeks ago.

"Looks a bit like a feather duster, if you ask me," she said, giggling. "Alright! Sounds fun!" she replied. Let me change out of this dress. We can't go bird hunting if I'm all dolled up."

"Alright, I'll meet you at your hut after I drop this off and pack a few provisions," the Professor said, holding up the book. "I don't feel like hauling this around much, anyway."

-o0o-

Mary Ann went into her hut and picked out a more suitable outfit for nighttime bird watching. She stepped behind the changing screen to switch frocks. Ginger was lying on her cot, reading a script aloud in different voices. She stopped as soon as Mary Ann came out, looking fresh and pretty.

"Hey! Aren't you getting ready for bed?" Ginger asked. "You're always asleep before me."

"No, I'm going for a stroll," Mary Ann replied, smoothing out her hair.

"Certainly not alone," Ginger said, sitting up suddenly. "You have 'date' written all over your face, if not your clothes. Who goes on dates in pedal pushers and work shirts?" she hinted, trying to glean more information out of Mary Ann. "Unless it's someone who doesn't think about those things, which is obviously Gilligan."

Mary Ann went red as Ginger continued to tease her. Ginger put down her script, got up and stood in front of her, inspecting her look.

"I thought so," she said, triumphantly. "Do you need any…advice?"

Mary Ann looked down at the ground and shook her head, trying to avoid Ginger's eyes. She felt sure that she would melt through the floor if she stayed a moment longer.

"My personal life is none of your business. I'm going for a walk, Ginger. Goodnight." Mary Ann stepped out of the hut and sat at the dining table. As soon as she got outside, she decided to go over to the supply hut to get some snacks in case they were out late.

Ginger stepped outside to see if she could see Gilligan so she could tease him about the date, but the Professor was heading up the path instead, carrying a backpack."

"Oh….helloooo," Ginger said wantonly. She walked up to him and put her fingers on his chest, walking them up toward his neck. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

"Hi Ginger," he said flatly. "Is Mary Ann ready?"

"You already knew about this?" Ginger said indignantly, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm always the last to know."

"Last to know what, pray tell?"

"About her secret date with Gilligan," Ginger said.

"Her what?" The Professor uncrossed his arms. He'd just seen her ten minutes ago. Something didn't make any sense. Just at that moment, Gilligan rounded the corner, still wearing the Howell blazer. He'd swiped it after the Howells retired for the evening.

"See?" Ginger said, pointing at the blazer. "I told you."

Gilligan looked confused. "Told me what?"

"YOU know," Ginger said, moving toward him and tugging his hat. "About your secret date with Mary Ann. I know alllll about it."

"I'm not on any date," Gilligan retorted. "I have a date with a comic book, not a girl. Yecch."

"Mmmhmm, you don't fool me," Ginger said. "Mary Ann told me how excited she was to go out with you tonight. Wouldn't shut up about it, in fact! That girl is dotty over you!"

The Professor looked perplexed. "Well, I suppose I'm off," he said sadly, heading up the path. He took the backpack off his shoulders and carried it.

"Where are you going?" asked Ginger.

"The other side of the island," the Professor said, scowling.

Ginger thought for a minute about how romantic the night was, and how it would be heaven to walk along the beach with the Professor all alone. But, from the sight of the binoculars and net, he clearly had no interest in anything other than work, and Ginger knew her limits in that department. The Professor whirled around and stormed off.

Two minutes later, Mary Ann reappeared with her own knapsack.

"Hi," she said to Ginger and Gilligan.

"You call that a date outfit?" Ginger asked, incredulously. "Who on earth takes a knapsack on a date? Gilligan, you and Mary Ann need some coaching," Ginger said.

"Why would we need coaching?" Mary Ann asked, looking around for the Professor. She didn't see him anywhere. _Probably looking for his binoculars,_ she reasoned.

"You two lovebirds are so clueless," Ginger shrugged.

"LOVEBIRDS?" Mary Ann laughed.

"LOVEBIRDS?" Gilligan spluttered. "Gee, I don't know what's gotten into you, Ginger, but whatever it is, stop taking it." He stomped off into his hut. Mary Ann looked around anxiously.

"What are you looking for?" Ginger asked.

"Oh, the Professor. Have you seen him? He said he'd meet me here ten minutes ago."

"Yeah, I saw him just a few minutes ago," Ginger said. "He already knew about your date. Honestly, Mary Ann, why would you tell him before your best girlfriend?"

"What? Wait, how would he know about my date, if I don't even know about my date? ….WHAT date, Ginger?"

"The one with Gilligan, of course!"

"There WAS no date with Gilligan! The Professor and I were going birdwatching. Oh, did he say which way he was going? I have to find him," she wailed.

"He just said the other side of the island," Ginger shrugged, walking back into the hut.

Mary Ann tightened the straps on her knapsack and started running up the path. It was dark and she wasn't even entirely sure she was going the right way. She kept going, calling for him. A few minutes later, she heard a response.

"MARY ANN!" he cried. "WATCH OUT!"

"OH!" Suddenly her feet gave way underneath her and she landed on a brush pile in an underground cave, next to the Professor. He'd lit his flashlight, and she could see was holding his arm in pain in the dim light. She pulled her backpack off her shoulders and got out her Coleman lantern. She lit it so they would have some light.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, confusedly. "Ginger told me you had a date. If I'd known, I'd…"

"Ginger made a mistake," Mary Ann replied, breathlessly. "There was no date. I don't know where she got that idea."

The Professor smiled. He felt twenty pounds lighter.

"Why are you asking such silly questions?" she said suddenly. "What happened to your arm?"

"I don't think it's broken, but the ground fell from beneath me and I landed on my right shoulder."

"Is there a way out of here?" she asked, looking up. They could see the moon, but the cave opening was too high for either of them to reach, and he was certainly not strong enough to support her on his shoulders.

"I don't know, he replied. "I suspect this may have been used as a type of Japanese PW camp from the War, but – Mary Ann, just look at these markings. This cave is ancient," he said. He flashed the light on the cave walls. There were hieroglyphs painted on them reminiscent of those at Lascaux.

"I suspect this might be the work of Neanderthals," he continued in awe. "These markings could be tens of thousands of years old. Even more fascinating than the wahoobi bird, in my opinion."

Mary Ann, in the meantime, had rolled up his sleeve. There were no cuts on his arm.

"Professor, we're going to have to take off your shirt so I can look at your shoulder. That's more important to me at the moment." Her worried tone meant business.

He unbuttoned his shirt and she gently pulled it off his shoulders. He tried to ignore her soft touches as she examined his skin. She hadn't had much training in nursing other than the first aid class she'd done in Girl Scouts, but the injury he sustained wouldn't be life threatening. He was just going to be sore for a few days. A nasty, dark bruise had started forming on his bicep, and his shoulder was skinned. She put the shirt back over his shoulders and took a rag out of her knapsack and wrapped it around him as a makeshift sling.

"I'm afraid I wasn't expecting to fall in a pit this evening," he said. "I only have the essentials. Some Scoutmaster I make. What an idiot I was!" He didn't want to admit he'd been distracted earlier.

Mary Ann patted his good arm. "Well, Professor, I have good news, despite our situation. While Ginger was spreading false gossip, I happened to pack my own knapsack with provisions. I have some food and water, a sleeping bag and two blankets. It was getting a little chilly, and I thought if we were going to be out all evening looking for birds, we might get cold and need something to sit on."

The Professor hugged her with his good arm. "Smart girl," he said, getting up. "We aren't deep enough for there to be any dangerous gases or anything down here. Let's look for a way out."

They didn't find a way out, but they did discover that the cave was a little larger than initially thought. Two chambers and intersecting hallways, and a little stream with fresh water. This, however, made it a bit damp. Mary Ann suggested they go back to where they had fallen in and light a fire; perhaps one of the others would see the smoke in the morning when they started searching for them.

"In the meantime, we might as well make ourselves comfortable," she said, arranging the blankets near the lantern. "It's terribly cold down here for the tropics." She leaned against the cave wall. The Professor sat next to her, groaning in pain when he smacked his shoulder against it.

"Had this been a spelunking expedition, I would have suggested something warmer than what either of us have on at the moment," he admitted. "Caves maintain a constant temperature despite the outside conditions."

"So, we're stuck here for the night, at least," she sighed.

"That we are."


	10. Chapter 10

-o0o-

They huddled next to each other. The chilliness began to creep in slowly. The Professor pulled one of the blankets over them. It was sufficient for sitting up and talking, but he knew that it couldn't have been more than 47º in the cave, and this concerned him.

Mary Ann shivered. He could feel her trembling against his good arm. He put it around her and she relaxed against him.

"If you are really honest with yourself, Mary Ann, would you really want to leave this island? Are you unhappy here?"

"When it comes down to it, I suppose it's practically the same as home," she replied truthfully. "But I do have more independence here that I never would have had there. I certainly miss things like running water and soft beds. But it's not terrible here. We were lucky we landed on this particular island."

"Yes, we were most fortunate. We've been able to be self-sustaining so far with materials we have here. It's a most fascinating challenge, but I understand it's not for everyone. The Howells and Ginger, for instance. I understand they're important back home."

Mary Ann snorted. "They've never done a lick of work in their lives. Honestly, yesterday I asked Ginger to do one thing – pick berries, and she came back 20 minutes later, complaining about missing Hollywood. HA! I'm sure it's just the casting directors' attention she misses. Let's not talk about Ginger. I'm still mad at her."

"Why don't you tell me about Kansas?" he prompted.

"Mary Ann laughed hollowly. "Oh, what do you want to hear about boring old farm life for? What about you? You've had a far more interesting life than I have," she said. "What's waiting for you at home?"

"University laboratories, typewriters, and steak so rare you could sell it at Tiffany's," he said. "Other than that, life on the island is not much different here. I am free to do my research, although with no one to read it it sometimes feels futile."

"I'll read it," she offered.

"I appreciate that, Mary Ann."

"What about your family?"

He hadn't really thought about them in years.

"My parents were financially comfortable, but also quite religious. They refused to support my education unless I agreed to go to Christian universities, and insisted that when I was finished school I would take over my father's business. I kept putting it off and kept acquiring degrees. Finally they figured out my scheme and cut me out entirely. I took a teaching position to support myself. It was a mistake – my real interest lay in research. It wasn't the students, it was the administration that got me down….my dear, you're shivering!"

"Am I, ever!"

"I'm afraid we're both going to have to hunker down in that sleeping bag if we're to get any rest tonight. The combined warmth of our body heat will help."

"That's fine, Professor, I know you're a gentleman," she laughed. "I know all about hypothermia dangers. I lost a sheep one particularly harsh winter. But this is nothing."

She unrolled the sleeping bag and placed it over the two blankets, so they would have a barrier off of the cave floor. They slipped into it and settled their heads down on the knapsacks as pillows. The Professor wrapped his arms around Mary Ann as they spooned together. Water droplets dripped off of the cave ceiling and splashed on her face.

"Are you warmer?" he asked.

"Much, thank you. Boy, this sure is romantic," she giggled. "Really, Professor, if the others knew about this, they would be shocked."

The Professor chuckled. "I was thinking the same thing, myself."

"Is your shoulder in pain?" she asked, worriedly.

"I'll be fine. Sleep well."

A little while later, her body relaxed, and he could tell she had drifted off to sleep. He followed suit soon after.

-o0o-

A few hours later, the Professor, already a light sleeper, was startled awake by a noise from above. It was nothing; just a wahoobi bird. But it took a minute for him to fall back asleep. Mary Ann had shifted in her slumber. The light of the lantern shone on her sleeping face, making her look like an angel. A stirring of warmth flooded through him and he couldn't help but gaze at her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, pulling the blanket up over her. The movement caused her to stir awake.

"Is anything wrong?" she whispered. "Are you sore?"

"No, nothing. I was startled awake by a noise. It's nothing." He settled back down against her. She turned toward him.

"I was having a nice dream," she whispered.

"About what?"

"You," she said, simply, causing his heart to pound more rapidly.

The Professor leaned in and, pausing briefly to see if he was unwelcome in this advance, he whispered, "I love you, my darling."

She wrapped her arms around him and they collided in a frenzy of passion. "Oh, Professor!" she moaned, his lips brushing up and down the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Call me Roy," he whispered in her ear, running his hands all over her. She was immensely intoxicating.

The euphoria racing through them hit like a tidal wave. The Professor, for all those bizarre, unwelcomed encounters with Ginger, had never felt quite this way before. Oh, he'd read about these romantic situations and seen them acted in films, but the real thing was so blissfully overwhelming. His body was responding in ways he couldn't control. From her own vocalizations, it was clear she was experiencing the same.

"Darling dearest, I've wanted you for so long," she murmured, as he laid a string of kisses down her throat toward her chest. The voice changed. "Take me right here. Ravage me. I want it." Suddenly he looked up and, to his horror saw Ginger's face instead. He recoiled in fear and was suddenly shaken awake by someone…

-o0o-

"Professor? Professor? Wake up, Professor!"

He opened his eyes groggily. When he saw Mary Ann's face looming over his, he gasped and put his hand over his eyes. When he peeked through his fingers, he found himself in his own hut, sleeping on his own cot.

"Where am I? How did we get out of that cave?"

"What cave?" she asked.

"We were going bird watching," he replied, standing up. "Don't you remember?"

Mary Ann chuckled. "We sure were! But you never came out of your hut, and Ginger and I got in an argument over whether or not I was going on some secret date with Gilligan."

"Oh dear. I clearly remember that," he said, scratching his head confusedly.

"I'll bet you overheard us yelling during your catnap. I just came over to look for you. You've only been asleep for about twenty minutes." The Professor laughed. "What was your dream about?" she asked.

"You," he said, smiling.

Mary Ann blushed.

"Hahaha! Well, hopefully that won't give you nightmares the rest of the night."

"Heavens, no."

"I say we call it a night. It's getting late and you're clearly tired. You were out in the heat all day working on that preservative. Drink some water before you go to bed." The Professor nodded.

"Good night," she said cheerfully, before walking back to her hut.

"Good night." He blew out the candle and changed into his pyjamas. He lay awake on the cot, sadly remembering the night of passion that never truly was, in a cave that never truly was, with a woman who wasn't truly his.


	11. Chapter 11

The next month or so on the island passed quickly and temporarily took precedent over the Professor's romantic distractions, although they did find time to do biology lessons twice a week. The Castaways had been subjected to a few potential catastrophes that had been narrowly avoided, and some interesting things happened.

For a few awful days, the Professor thought that the island was sinking, but it ended up that Gilligan had been moving the measuring stick in the lagoon when fishing for lobsters. Mary Ann, Ginger and Mrs Howell had pleasantly surprised the men with their efficiency and levelheadedness during the crisis, however.

Then a box full of silent movie equipment and costumes washed ashore. The Professor had come up with a few ideas to send a message about their story to the mainland, and happily was able to create a working darkroom using the developer chemicals in the box. Everyone was game to participate. The Professor had written a scene about Mary Ann assisting him with research experiments, but Howell took over the project, and Ginger whined incessantly about not having enough screen time despite being a "real actress."

"Sit here, my boy, and go over your scene," Mr Howell said, shoving a script in the Professor's hands. "I took the liberty of making a few changes. For verisimilitude, and all that."

The Professor read over the paper and put it on the table. "Now, come on," he said to Mr Howell, "this scene was supposed to be with Mary Ann. Ginger's the one being chased by headhunters. That's how it really happened," the Professor protested. Howell tapped his foot and shook his head. "Oh, never mind. Let's just get it done. Maybe I can learn something from Ginger for once."

The scene, of course, required kissing, something the Professor wanted to avoid. He was not interested. But Ginger got her way, and, despite a few attempts to dissuade her from kissing him, she wrestled him expertly onto the table and they kissed for an incredibly long time. The Professor kept moving his hands for effect.

Finally Ginger broke the kiss. "How was that, big boy?" she cooed.

"I think that's the end of my acting career," he replied curtly, telling Gilligan that he was starring from now on.

"Come on, Professor," said Gilligan, getting the hint loud and clear. "We'll go set up the shot with the headhunters. Go see if Mary Ann is ready."

The Professor walked up to Mary Ann's hut and knocked softly on the door.

"Ready yet, dear?"

"How do I look?" She popped out from behind the screen in her red checked dress, looking adorable.

"Fine."

"So what's this scene about? Doing research, you said?"

"There's been a change," the Professor sighed. "Ginger insisted on a bigger part and they roped me into a scene that Howell rewrote."

"Oh," Mary Ann replied.

"Howell wants Gilligan to be a headhunter, and now you're going to play the role Ginger was supposed to do."

Mary Ann rolled her eyes. "I've just about had it with her. What scene did you two do? Tell me how it went."

"Oh, it was stupid," the Professor scoffed. "I'll be sure to speed it up when I run it through the editing process. Fortunately, I happen to know a little something about film editing."

-o0o-

Mary Ann was not pleased after seeing the end result. After they showed the film, which she had declared "terrible," she walked over to the Professor to help disassemble the makeshift film projector.

"So you finally got your Masters in kissing from Ginger University?" she said, meaning for it to be playful. The Professor detected a note of hurt in her voice.

"Certainly not!" he insisted, putting the film back into the tin and marking it with a china marker. He put it down and looked at her square in the eye. "She refused to participate unless she got a large scene with a bunch of close ups. Then Howell insisted that there be a romantic element to the story. I assure you it was not of my own volition."

"Well, why did she have to participate at all?" Mary Ann felt her face temperature rise, much to her consternation. "She's a rotten actress."

"Why are YOU so angry?" the Professor countered, his own voice rising.

"I don't know!" Mary Ann shouted. "Everything around here seems to revolve around keeping her happy. That beauty contest, all the times everyone is afraid of hurting her feelings. I guess I wish…oh never mind, it doesn't matter."

She stomped off, tears welling in her eyes. The Professor watched her go, contemplated following her, and subsequently got distracted by Gilligan tripping over one of the seats.

After he finished cleaning up, he found her crying in her hut. Ginger was off somewhere. He knocked on the door and came in.

"Ohhh go away," she wailed. "I'm so embarrassed."

"There's no need," he said. "Don't be, it's just pretend. You know as well as I do how annoying Ginger is."

"And how," she sniffled.

"Mary Ann…" he sat next to her on the bed. "Howell thought the research scene was too boring for paying audience members. So that's what happened."

"That's just what has me so angry. What makes Ginger so darn important? Just because she's famous at home? She can't even fry an egg for herself. She's completely useless. The only suggestions she can relate to are scenes she did in movies that other people wrote for her."

The Professor certainly shared Mary Ann's anger, but he had seen Ginger's tantrums, and brought them up as the reason why everyone was afraid of her.

"Oh, they're just bullshit," Mary Ann spat. She never swore, ever, and the venom in which the word was spewed shocked the Professor. "The truth is, she's an immoral, lazy drama queen."

"That I cannot disagree with," he replied. "I must go to bed. Are you still game for a lesson on leaf identification tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes," she replied. "I am tired myself. Good night, Professor." She hugged him tightly.

"Good night."

-o0o-

Over the next couple of days, tragedy struck the Howells…at least, they thought so at first. They believed they were broke, and that wreaked a lot of mayhem. Then some cosmonauts crashed on the island. Ginger was all too happy to play spy, then lust got the better of her and she ended up trysting with Igor in the munitions pit three nights in a row. Mary Ann chastised her for her irresponsibility, but Ginger grinned.

"I had a couple of procedures back in Hollywood. There's no need to worry about any consequences. Tallulah Bankhead gave me the advice. Are you still a virgin, Mary Ann?"

She was met with a look of disgust.

"That's none of your business."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Good night, Ginger," she muttered, through gritted teeth.

-o0o-

A few days later, a terrible storm hit the island. The Professor had been tracking it, but weirdly, Gilligan had knocked some fillings in his teeth and had become, essentially, a human radio. Not wanting to take their chances in their simple huts, they sought refuge in the closest cave to camp. It was higher up than the others, and the only one without any potential of flooding, but it was miniscule. Too miniscule for seven people, in fact. As the storm loomed closer, a crisis arose: Gilligan volunteered to take his chances outside. The Skipper remained with him, insistent on protecting his little buddy to the end.

"Oh, Professor, isn't there a way that all seven of us could fit in here?" Mary Ann pleaded.

"Well, just so many sardines will fit in a can," he replied sadly. With those words, the Professor's guilt hit him. He couldn't leave them out there to die alone. He excused himself and left the cave.

"Where are you going?" Ginger asked.

"I um, I have claustrophobia," he said, ducking out of the entrance to join the other two.

"I hope it isn't catching," Mr Howell quipped.

"Funny he should suddenly remember that," Mary Ann said, concerned. She stood there, holding on to Mrs Howell. After a few minutes, Mr Howell went outside. Mrs Howell threw a fit and ran out after him. Her devotion to her husband brought a tear to Mary Ann's eye, as she thought about how life without the Professor was a much bleaker prospect than living at all.

'This is ridiculous!" she shouted at Ginger, running out of the cave. She ran straight to the Professor, clutching both him and the tree. He put his arm around her protectively as they figured out a plan of action to weather the typhoon. They attempted to get the crates as a barricade, but a thunderclap sent them all back to the tree. The Professor put his arm around Mary Ann, as if to keep her from blowing away. Seconds later, a lighting strike made a direct hit on the cave, destroying it.

The Professor grabbed Mary Ann's hand and instructed everyone to run for shelter – caves, rocks, anything they could find. Dodging flying branches, howling wind and torrential rains, they all split in order to find safety.

"HERE!" Mary Ann shouted, dragging the Professor toward another shallow cave with rock outcroppings. They ducked inside. It was adequate shelter from the storm, but only really big enough for the two of them.

Mary Ann and the Professor sat crouched against the wall of the cave, his arm protectively around her. After every lightning crack, every rumble, she shrieked and clutched at him, much like in the Minnow storm, much like in the first terrible electrical storm the first week on the island. He pulled her tighter to him as the storm raged outside.

"It's going to be okay," he said soothingly. "We're safe in here."

"I hope everyone is okay," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "This reminds me of the tornadoes in Kansas," she replied. "I hate big storms. One flattened our barn when I was a kid. It was terrifying."

"I suspect that the typhoon's strength will be knocked out by this other storm," he said. "And that's good news for both us and the island itself."

Another lightning strike and a great crash.

"I'll can you a story to distract you," he said, feeling her trembling. Her teeth were chattering.

"Please d..d…do," Mary Ann replied. "Tell me about your childhood," she suggested. "I want to know more about you."

"Alright," the Professor said. His soothing, reassuring tones started to put her at ease, as he stroked her hair.

"I was born in Cleveland. My father and his brothers were partners in a company my great-grandfather started. They made lathes, drill presses, that sort of thing. I had no interest in continuing the family business. I had a little sister named Elizabeth. She passed away from diphtheria when she was a toddler. After that, I vowed that I would do all I could in science to help people."

Mary Ann hugged him back. "I'm so sorry."

"I was only six when she died. It was a hard time for my family, losing her. My parents dealt with their grief by throwing themselves into religion. They were staunch Methodists. No drinking, no gambling, no…no nothing," he finished. "I graduated high school early. My parents hoped I would marry the daughter of one of the steel factory moguls; she had a wonderful front porch, I might add, but I could never relate to her. She had no interest in anything but getting married. And that's when I said to myself that I would never settle. So I threw myself into my studies."

He then started telling Mary Ann the things he had discussed in that cave dream.

When he had finished his story, Mary Ann shifted and laid her head on his shoulder. The storm had finally calmed down from imminent doom to torrential downpour. The thunder and lightning had ceased, at least.

They fell asleep in this position, her head slumped against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart in her ears. He clung to her for dear life, fearing that this was just another dream.

The next morning they woke up simultaneously to the Skipper, who was out searching for them. They crawled out of the cave, damp but safe.

"OH YOU'RE ALRIGHT!" The Skipper thundered, embracing them both. "I was so worried you'd been washed out to sea!"

"Where were you hiding?" Mary Ann asked.

"Ginger and Gilligan and I hunkered down in the munitions pit," he said. The Howells ran into the supply cave. Everyone's safe! We made it!"

"Let's go back to camp and have some breakfast," Mary Ann said. The Professor put his arm around her waist as they headed back to camp.

This did not go unnoticed by the Skipper. _You sly dog_, he thought, smiling at the pair. _Nothing gets past ol' Skipper!_

Right then and there the Skipper made a secret vow to himself to see what he could do in the realm of playing Cupid between those two.


	12. Chapter 12

When the Mosquitoes landed on the Island, everyone was sure they had found a way home. Mary Ann couldn't contain her excitement to meet the band members, which made the Professor a bit envious.

"The Mosquitoes are putting on a show for us," Mary Ann said chipperly, as she walked into his lab to return his botany book. "We're so lucky to get a private concert! They sold out Shea Stadium just last week! I heard it on the radio."

"With that racket?" he laughed, pouring some coconut water into a beaker. "Good lord, it's a wonder anyone can hear themselves think!" The faint jangles of Irving's guitar could be heard down near the lagoon.

"It's not a racket," Mary Ann protested. "It's new and modern and fresh sounding! And the guys are real radicals. Bongo was telling Ginger about his one night stands and the marijuana they smoked. I can't believe how bad they are!"

"I think I'll stick to classical, thanks," he laughed. "Why, I've heard tales about the salaciousness of Mozart that I could never share in mixed company! These rock n' rollers are no different than musicians of the past, except for two key differences."

"What's that?" Mary Ann asked, feeling a little put out.

"Better dress sense, and actual talent." He chuckled.

"Fine, Mister High and Mighty," she said, getting up to go. "You stay here tonight and putter around in your lab while we have some fun for once."

"Aw, Mary Ann, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Then make it up to me by sitting with me at the concert. I promise you'll have a really great time. They're going to play that song Gilligan was dancing to."

The Professor cringed inside, remembering the destruction that lay in the wake of Gilligan's dance path. He bit his tongue and smiled.

"Of course I will. I suppose if I watch it from an anthropological viewpoint, I'll appreciate it more."

"That's the spirit!" Mary Ann danced out of the hut, singing "She's A Loser."

-o0o-

The concert, as promised, was…a concert. The Professor watched his companion as she bounced up and down in her seat with Gilligan, shaking her head, occasionally shrieking in glee. It was all very confusing. The Professor watched the performers, who didn't seem to be doing anything particularly worthy of this fanfare. The musical performances were less than satisfactory. The Professor, having grown up with the sound of big band orchestras, was not accustomed to the stylings of this primitive rock n'roll sound. He wondered what the formula was to convince the audience that it was good music. Perhaps it was a mass hypnosis experiment, or the musical equivalent to Edward Bernays' propaganda techniques. He thought perhaps one of the Mosquitoes might be interested in being a test subject regarding the telepathic conduction of brain waves in the next couple of days.

The Mosquitoes decided to disappoint everyone by announcing they were refusing to return to civilization for at least a month. The castaways came up with a plan to annoy them so much they would be forced to leave. The girls shrieked at them when they were sleeping; the Professor chased after one of them with a pair of headphones. The Mosquitoes were so angry, Bingo announced they were leaving the next day. Everyone danced out of the hut in a conga line, chanting "We're going tomorrow!"

They didn't go home the next day. The Mosquitoes had taken up residence on another part of the island and refused to play along. The Skipper, Mr Howell, Ginger and Gilligan came up with a plan for the men to make their own band, one that could inspire and potentially open for the Mosquitoes when they returned to the States. When Gilligan told the plan to the Professor, he laughed.

"Can you make instruments?" Gilligan asked.

"I could probably fashion a primitive drum set and make some guitars. Luckily, I took a luthier class during my time at UCLA."

"A what?"

"Luthier. Guitar-making," the Professor laughed. "I'll draw up some plans. Can you get Mary Ann for me, please?"

A few minutes later Mary Ann came in. "Gilligan told me about some plan to make a band, or something?"

"Mary Ann, you are artistically inclined, correct? I've seen some of your plant drawings. You're quite good."

"Thank you," she said, blushing a little. No one had ever complimented her artistic skills before, and it made her strangely proud. "I took a few art classes in high school. Never had much time to paint pictures on the farm, though."

"Can you draw a giant gnat on the drum head once I'm finished making the kit? I'm using the bottom of the fuel drum as a cymbal, but I think a band name and maybe a cartoon gnat would really add to the effect. I can mix up some more paints, out of the pigments from Karaki berries, octopus ink and strained seaweed."

"Of course I will!" she cried. "That sounds fun."

"I'm also going to need some kind of outlandish outfit, I suppose," he continued, wincing. "Do you have anything that would be suitable?"

She scratched her head, trying to think of ideas. "I have this darling striped shirt I never wear," she said. "I'll be right back. I think I have a scarf, too. Oh, and there's a wig and a weird rug in that silent movie costume trunk. I can cut up that rug and make you a vest like Bingo's."

The Professor finished the drum kit a couple of hours later – a very impressive one, Mary Ann had to admit. She had finished the vest, a ridiculous looking garment, rather caveman-like, the Professor thought, as she put it over his shoulders. It looked absurd over his oxford shirt.

"It'll look better once you put this on," she said, handing him the striped shirt. She got to work on the drum head as the Professor changed into the "rock n'roller" costume. He put the wig on his head and the scarf around his neck. Mary Ann's back was still toward him as she finished sketching out the gnat with a pencil.

"How do I look?" he asked. Mary Ann laughed uncontrollably.

"You look like an escaped mental patient," she said, diplomatically. "In other words, perfect." She showed him her gnat sketch, which made him laugh as well.

"When that dries, I'll take that over to the Skipper's hut. I must say, we make quite an artistic team."

"Mmhmm," Mary Ann giggled. "I ought to be doing this for a living!"

The Professor smiled. "Well, I suppose I'll get out of this get-up and get to work on those guitars."

-o0o-

The men failed terribly. None of them knew how to write a rock song or understood that it was anything other than gibberish. The Professor's instruments looked great, but unfortunately none of them worked. And he couldn't find his recorder to tie in a melody.

The Mosquitoes fled after two minutes of the cacophony.

Later, Ginger came into the lab to find Mary Ann and the Professor at the table, trying to think of other ideas.

"Mary Ann, Gilligan just came up with a marvellous idea. How about you, me and Mrs Howell give it a go?"

"Ginger, these instruments are terrible," the Professor grumbled. "And none of you would know how to play even if they were functional."

"Well, I have a go-go record in my suitcase," Ginger continued. "I'm sure you can write lyrics to match the melody, right?"

"Say, that's an idea," Mary Ann said.

"I'm not much of a wordsmith," Ginger said, "and besides, Irving wants to go for a long walk, if you know what I mean. Why don't you work it out?"

"Alright. Bring over the record, we'll see what we can do."

-o0o-

"Alright, let's start with free association. What rhymes with the word 'shell?'

Mary Ann put a pencil to her nose and closed her eyes, rattling off what came to mind.

"Bell, quell, spell, pell-mell, Hell..." They burst out laughing. "What line have you come up with? I'm drawing blanks," she said.

The Professor dramatically read out his line, as if it were Shakespeare. "_Like a clam needs a shell. _What could rhyme with that?"

"Like a prisoner needs a cell."

He chuckled. "This is going somewhere. Alright. Like a ding-dong needs a bell."

"Put it in!" she said excitedly.

They found words to rhyme with star, toy and ring, and worked out the lyrics in about a half hour. They sang along to the record, taking turns with each stanza. Mary Ann wondered why the Professor didn't just sing it all himself. He had a great singing voice.

The Skipper walked past and listened to the racket. Peeking in the window, he saw them dancing around and singing to the record. Mary Ann was mimicking Ginger's go-go routine and the Professor kept directing her to rein it in or else she'd shimmy right into his lab setup and get chemical burns.

"Good lord. This song is so terrible, it might be a number one hit!" the Professor exclaimed. Mary Ann laughed so hard she slapped her knees. Each lyric was dumber than the last, but somehow it worked. The Professor jumped up and showed Mary Ann Suddenly they heard clapping from the window.

"Well, one thing's for certain, you two make a great creative team," said the Skipper. The Professor and Mary Ann turned, smiled gallantly, and bowed.

-o0o-

The women sang their song under the name "The Honeybees." The Mosquitoes seemed impressed, but after Irving caught Ginger half naked with Bango behind a coconut tree, murmuring "Mmmmm. I see why they call you Bango," the band decided to split. They could deal with groupies at home; Ginger was just too much for any of them to take.

Ginger decided to keep that one a secret. She really didn't think the band would take off like that, or else she would have just stuck to Irving. And she was mad that she'd been caught. _This strategy would have worked in Hollywood_, she thought. _That's how I negotiated my contract with Republic Pictures._

A few days later, the Professor angrily walked up to Mary Ann as she was working the laundry cycle. The radio was in his hands, blaring out a tune she couldn't make out immediately.

"Hi, Professor," she said. "What's that you're playing? Don't tell me I've converted you into a rock n'roll fan."

"Get a load of this," he said. "The newest song by the Mosquitoes. It's made the Top 10 worldwide."

Mary Ann stopped the cycle and listened. Her jaw dropped when she heard the refrain. "You need meeee, you need meee."

"Well, we know one thing," she said, trying to keep her spirits up. "When we get back to civilization, you and I have careers waiting for us in experimental filmmaking, set design and pop song writing." She got up and drained the water out of the tank. The Professor helped her unload the laundry into the basket and carried it for her over to the clothesline.

"Thank you," she said. "Chivalry isn't dead."

"Nor are our talents," he replied. "By the way, your dance onstage was cute. And those bee pins you made out of those nutshells looked great. You've come a long way conquering your stage fright."

"I just focused on you," she replied. "You ground me. You grouuund meeee," she said, starting to sing the tune and doing the dance.

He chuckled, turned off the radio, and briskly kissed her on the cheek. "Nice work," he said. "Buzz Buzz." He walked back to his lab, humming the song to himself.

"I knew I was a good influence," Mary Ann laughed to herself. "I just wish I could tell him how I feel."


	13. Chapter 13

A few nights later, Mary Ann had a startling dream that soon devolved into a nightmare.

_Mary Ann was walking with the Professor along the path. They were holding hands. He kissed her on the cheek._

"_I am so glad we started seeing each other romantically," he said. "It is most satisfactory. I never want to see any other woman. We will bust through the shackles of ignorance, you and I, my darling, and we will make our mark on the world once we leave this island. _

_Suddenly, out of nowhere, Gilligan appeared._

"_A LADY IS HERE," he said. "BY OUR HUT." He was very loud in the dream, and disappeared as quickly as he had appeared._

_The Professor and Mary Ann went up to greet the woman. She was very beautiful, if somewhat matronly, and she spoke with an exotic accent, likely Hungarian. Mr Howell introduced her and the Professor by incorrect names. The Woman fawned all over the Professor, but spoke as if Mary Ann didn't exist. And suddenly the Professor began to act as if Mary Ann didn't exist. It upset her greatly._

_The dream went on: the woman had plans to build a resort hotel for the filthy rich on that island, and was on the hunt for Husband #5. She decided on the Professor, who seemed to only want a sponsor for research lab work, and ended up accidentally becoming engaged to her. Mary Ann appeared in his hut to congratulate him, only to find him unable to put on his own shoes. _

_Then the Professor went to Ginger for kissing lessons and they made out on the table with MARY ANN IN THE ROOM, WATCHING THEM. They had no idea she was there, because she was invisible and rooted to the floor by an unseen force._

_Then the Professor decided he didn't want to marry the dream woman, and they broke their half-day engagement. She took off in a boat and refused to help any of them. The Professor brought in the radio and she tried describing the island's location in Hungarian gibberish._

Mary Ann woke up in a cold sweat. Clad only in her nightshirt, she got up and walked out to the beach to think. It was still quite warm out; a pleasant 75º, and the sun was beginning to peek out above the horizon. Dawn was coming soon, she might as well stay awake.

The dream had really shaken her. The prospect of the Professor marrying someone else upset her so much, she began to cry.

Half an hour later, after she had dried her tears and collected her thoughts, she caught sight of the object of her affection coming up the beach, carrying a pail.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, taking a seat next to her. "And still in your nightshirt!"

"I had a bad dream and couldn't get back to sleep. Ginger snores. She'd kill me if I told you, but she does."

The Professor laughed and picked up some sand in his hand, letting it run through his fingers.

"What are you doing up so early?" she asked. "And what's that rake you've got?

"I thought I'd see if I could find some oysters. I discovered an oyster bed near the north beach. Gilligan wasn't feeling that great last night, so I told him to sleep in and I'd do some fishing, instead."

"Poor Gilligan! I hope he's not ill."

"I think he ate too many bananas, if you ask me," the Professor said. "But he's been working very hard all week. I don't mind. What was your dream about that upset you so much? I have a master's in Psychology, you know," he teased.

"Oh, that - I don't want to talk about it, it's silly," she said, reddening. "I'll go get dressed and help you with the oysters, huh?"

The Professor clanged the bucket with the crowbar. "Excellent! And while we're out here, let's pick some berries for dessert."

"I think I have enough tapioca flour to make a tart!" _And not the Ginger kind, _she thought.

"I'll meet you on the north beach in a little bit," he replied. "See you there!"

She ran home to change. The sun had just started to rise, and the others would wake soon. She put on some suitable capris and her skimmers, as well as her work shirt, and grabbed a bucket from the supply hut. She was terribly excited about the oysters; they were one of her favorites.

The Professor, in the meantime, had pried one from the bed and opened it. To his amazement, there was a pretty pearl inside. It wasn't perfect, and it had some lumps, but it was a lovely little thing. He plucked it out and examined it. _Exquisite, _ he thought. _ I think I'll make something with this for Mary Ann. It would look so pretty on her. _ He pocketed the bauble moments before she joined him on the beach.

"OH!" she cried. "It's really marvelous, isn't it?"

He showed her how to remove them from the bed, and they soon filled the buckets.

"Do you think there might be a pearl in any of them?" she asked. "I'm almost afraid to tell Mister Howell about these, in case he makes a grab for the rights to all pearls found in here."

The Professor laughed. "It's possible in all bivalves, but very rare. Why, the odds of finding a pearl made by the _Crassostrea gigas_ is a thousand to one. Even if we were to find one, it wouldn't be worth much money on the market. I don't think you have to worry about Howell. We should just enjoy our treat. Let's take care not to overhunt them." He opened one and sampled it. They were delicious. Mary Ann ate one as well, and rhapsodized about how terrific they were fresh.

They made their haul back to camp. The Professor advised Mary Ann to keep them stored in the cool food storage cave nearby so they wouldn't spoil. On her way back to camp, she noticed an outcropping of mushrooms growing near a rock. They looked like the ones mentioned in the book the Professor lent her some time back, but she wanted to make sure before she picked any. If they were edible, she could use the oyster broth to make a lovely soup accompaniment to dinner. She stopped at the Professor's hut. He was taking a brief nap on the cot.

"Yoo hoo. Can I borrow your mushroom book?"

"Sure, it's on the shelf," he said, his eyes still closed. "Boy, that oyster hunting took a lot out of me."

"Me too. I wish I could rest up, but Ginger is awake, so I'll never get a nap in before lunch."

The Professor contemplated inviting her to nap with him, but figured it probably wouldn't be appropriate.

"Anyway, thanks for the book. I've got a nice surprise in store if my hunch is correct."

Mary Ann went back to her hut and found Ginger at the writing table.

"Oh, hello," Ginger said. "You must have been up early. I was just writing my island memoirs. Want to read my chapter about how great a kisser the Professor is? I want to see what else I can teach him with my method acting course. He has sooo much to learn about romance from me."

"Not particularly," said Mary Ann, rolling her eyes. She was trying not to let Ginger get on her nerves. "I'd rather you go pick berries for tonight's dessert. I've been out all morning gathering mushrooms and my back hurts."

"Gee whiz. Always thinking about yourself," said Ginger, airily. "Fine, I'll pick a whole basket full of them.

_God, is she delirious? _ Mary Ann thought. _ I hate when she does that. I always feel like an inexperienced little girl when she talks about men. I hope Gilligan doesn't anyone about those notes I send to that made-up boyfriend. I'd be mortified. But it's the only way to keep him from bugging me to go swinging on vines with that monkey. If the Professor found out, I'd die. _

Mary Ann opened the mushroom book. Sure enough, the examples in the book were identical to the ones in the jungle. They were going to feast tonight! She gathered up a bunch and took them back to be prepared for dinner. Gilligan had left the radio on the prep table. It was almost time for her soap opera_, Old Doctor Young_.

Soon the mushrooms were simmering in oyster broth and fresh herbs. She tasted it. Delicious! The soap opera story was heating up. As usual, Mary Ann got wrapped up in the characters and story line, Gilligan came by, but Mary Ann was too engrossed in her soap opera to notice.

-o0o-

In the meantime, the men had been discussing the situation of this Horace Higgenbotham getting married. Gilligan had insisted that Mary Ann was dating him, mostly because that's what she had told him. This certainly surprised the Professor. After all this time on the island, after all they had been through, she had never mentioned this Higgenbotham once.

The Professor felt a gnawing pit in his stomach, but didn't want to let on to the others what he thought. He insisted they tell Mary Ann about the marriage, but didn't want to be the one to do it. The whole thing would be too uncomfortable. Gilligan would have to break the news. He couldn't bear to be the one to break her heart.

This failed. As the Skipper and Gilligan argued over Gilligan's inability to do anything right, The Professor sat at the table, stewing and dreading having to do the logical thing: tell her himself. He stomped out of the hut, but as soon as he caught sight of Mary Ann sniffling at the cooking table, he felt a bit of dread. This was quite a change from the morning.

"Hello, Mary Ann," he said, tentatively. She sniffed in response, a little embarrassed by her empathetic response to the stupid soap opera. "Say….oh, uh, something smells good! What are you cooking?"

"Mushrooms. I picked them myself." She wiped some tears from her eyes.

"Oh, that's nice." The Professor looked down at the pot. It smelled heavenly. "Uh, Mary Ann…"

"Yes?"

"There's something…I've got to tell you."

The tone in his voice worried her. She immediately remembered Gilligan not feeling well earlier, and braced herself for bad news about his health.

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, yes, there is," the Professor replied, looking down. He wasn't frantic, and she was well accustomed to his serious tone, so she sat down.

"Well, it couldn't be half as bad as what happened to poor Aileen Forbischer," she said. "I wouldn't trade places with her for anything else in the world!"

The Professor looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Aileen Forbischer! The poor girl on the radio." The Professor remained puzzled. Who on earth was…never mind, it was probably one of those soap operas Mary Ann loved so much. He decided to change the subject.

"Oh, yes, of course. Well, you see, it's just that…" He looked down at Mary Ann's tear-stained eyes and choked up. There was no way he could be the one to tell her she'd been jilted. Not when she was so emotional already. She would hate him forever if she associated him with breaking her heart. He couldn't do it. "Uh…the…the..the MUSHROOMS! Oh, you've got to be careful," he blurted.

"Careful? About what?" she replied, wondering what he was going on about.

"The…the SPECIES! Some mushrooms and toadstools can make you quite ill and others are actually poisonous!" _She knows that, Hinkley,_ he thought to himself. _She took your darned book this morning!_

"Poisonous?" she asked, standing with wide, frightened eyes.

"Oh, you never can tell. You've got to get rid of those," he said quickly. He tore off as fast as he could.

Mary Ann looked at the pot and began to panic. She'd been eating those mushrooms for the past twenty minutes! Oh well. She didn't feel sick, so she dumped out the pot and went out in the jungle to find some provisions to make a salad.

Dinner was fantastic that night. Everyone raved about the oysters they had found.

-o0o-

In the meantime, Ginger suggested to the men that they try pretending to woo Mary Ann to cheer her up. It sounded like a favor, but all Ginger really wanted to do was give the Professor more kissing lessons.

It failed spectacularly once again. The Professor was completely unresponsive and made a mockery of her method acting. She shoved him on Mary Ann's bed. _That's it,_ she thought. _I'll never break this one down. He's almost certainly a homosexual, and not one of those fun kinds who like shopping. I can spot 'em a mile away._ This made her feel a little better about herself. Because clearly, no man would ever resist her advances, right?

-o0o-

Mary Ann sat at her table, working on some sewing, when Gilligan burst through her door, dressed as a Frenchman. He shoved some flowers at her and tried kissing her hand. She wondered what the hell had gotten into him. It weirded her out. Gilligan would never pull something strange like this on his own, and she didn't want to think about why.

Then the Skipper came in, pretending to be a cowboy, wearing a starfish badge on his shirt. He also shoved flowers at her and called her 'ma'am." This was even stranger than Gilligan's transformation.

Finally the Professor came in, doing his Cary Grant impersonation. He took her in his arms and cried out, "MA-RY ANN, MA-RY ANN, MA-RY ANNNNN."

"Professor!" she exclaimed.

"Just a minute, I've got a few more Ma-ry Annnns." He released her and assumed a Cary stance. "First, I want you to put these in a vahhse." He got close to her, hoping to be in the moment enough to kiss her.

"I see you've been down to the corral, too," she replied, confusedly, looking over the the Skipper and Gilligan. The Professor grinned and took her back in his arms again.

"Corral! Why, my dear, you do have a sense of humorrrrr," he said, acknowledging the other men. "And what have we here?" He kept his arm around her.

"Oh, that's what I'm trying to figure out," Mary Ann replied, worried.

"My dear, they're not good enough for you. Not half good enough." He kissed her on the cheek as the other two stared at him.

"That's not true, you…you…LIMEY!" Gilligan shouted.

"LIMEY, EH?" the Professor replied, releasing Mary Ann and putting up fisticuffs. She stood there in shock, wondering what on earth had happened to her friends. It was so bizarre. Maybe they were rehearsing another play. But that wouldn't have made sense. The Professor would have told her if that was afoot.

Suddenly Gilligan started dueling with the Professor with a broom and the Skipper started yelling frontier talk, and Mary Ann decided they had gone completely bananas.

When the Howells and Ginger didn't respond to the madness, Mary Ann ran back to her hut to see what was going on. She overheard them talking about someone – someone who had never recovered from something.

She put two and two together. No wonder everyone had been acting so weird.

"I'm DYING!" she thought. She freaked out and ran to the beach to have a cry. Oh, she should never have been so overconfident in her botany! She was going to die on that island! She was too young!

Inspired by brave Aileen on the radio, she decided that she would meet her fate with dignity. Trouble was, everyone on the island seemed callous about her impending doom. The Howells were even planning a party. This upset Mary Ann. She ran to the Professor's hut.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked gently.

"I'm glad I got to hear your Cary Grant impression one last time," she said, sniffling.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll keep on doing it."

"Even after I'm dead?"

The Professor looked puzzled. "Are you planning on dying anytime soon, Mary Ann?"

"OHHH!" she ran out, crying, not waiting for a response. She felt betrayed.

-o0o-

Mary Ann had a terrible nightmare about being in a hospital with no one to care for her. The men of the island had all abandoned her for Ginger, and the only one paying attention to her WAS Ginger, telling her to wake up.

Wake up.

She opened her eyes to see everyone standing around her bed, worried that she was sick with fever.

When the Professor finally admitted that the mushrooms weren't poisonous and the others explained what had happened, realization dawned on her. They didn't want her feelings to be hurt.

They all had a good laugh about it.

After Mary Ann got up and dressed, she walked back over to the Professor's hut to return his book. She found him hard at work crafting something, but before she could see what it was, he had placed it in his pocket. She figured it was probably something to do with an experiment and didn't think twice about it.

"So I was right, after all," she said, handing the book to him. "The mushrooms, I mean."

"Yes, of course. You've been trained to search correctly. It was my fault that you got frightened. I should have told you the news and avoided all of that."

Mary Ann laughed. "I was so silly."

The Professor smiled. "Well, what's done is done. I admit I was shocked."

"Not as much as I was!"


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey everybody! Gilligan can read minds! It's the most fantastic thing! My little buddy can read minds!"

The Skipper came bounding into the eating area, Gilligan in tow, so excited he was practically jumping up and down. The others were sitting on the benches, discussing an irrigation system. The Professor shook his head. The heat had been bad the last day or two, but clearly they had been out in the sun too long.

"Skipper, nobody can read minds. It's a scientific impossibility," he scoffed, turning to head back to his hut. He was enlisting Mary Ann for her artistic abilities in order to draw out his ideas, and this superstitious nonsense was getting to him.

The Skipper stopped him, hoping to convince the Professor of Gilligan's newfound abilities. He challenged the first mate to try again.

"You're thinking about that hula dancer in the grass skirt," Gilligan said.

The Skipper enthusiastically confirmed it. "I even tried to fool him, and I couldn't!"

"Skipper, just because you SAID he read your mind, doesn't mean he read it."

The Skipper insisted that Gilligan try it with him. The Professor was getting impatient with them at this point. "Oh, really, Skipper." Just to be especially sure, he thought of the symbol for Aluminum. To his amazement, Gilligan recited, verbatim, exactly what was in the Professor's head. He tried again with another equation, with the same results. It was shocking, to say the least. Mary Ann's jaw dropped and she leapt up to ask Gilligan to read hers.

"You're thinking about a double thick chocolate malted…with whipped cream on top!"

"I was just thinking about a double thick chocolate malted!"

"The whipped cream was my idea!"

Ginger was not to be ignored in this. She curled her finger, motioning for Gilligan to come over.

"Would you read my mind?" she asked. He walked over.

"You're thinking of…Rockery Hudpeck."

"Rockery Hudpeck?" the Skipper replied, incredulously.

"Oooh, yeah, he's right! I was thinking of Rock Hudson and Gregory Peck, but I couldn't make up my mind!" Ginger replied, in glee.

Gilligan did the same for Mister Howell, which caused Ginger and Mary Ann to fight with him over who got to have their minds read next. Mister Howell announced he was going to make a fortune off Gilligan. Mary Ann attempted to wrest Gilligan away from the others – she was not happy to see the possibility of Howell exploiting her friend – but it was no use. She gave up and walked over to the Professor's hut.

"Isn't it remarkable?" she asked, sitting down next to him, taking the tablet of paper.

"It certainly is, but I'm not sure I am comfortable with anyone having that kind of power," he replied. "Here, I've sketched out the idea I had. Does it make any sense? I'm not the most skilled at drafting."

Mary Ann looked it over. "Oh, sure, I get what you're doing. This pipe joins in here and you've written the angle that is sure to get the maximum water flow. Makes sense to me. I can draw it out."

The Professor grinned from ear to ear as she spoke. "Splendid," he replied. "I'll construct a scale model from these drawings and test it with a small stream."

Mary Ann finished the sketch a few minutes later. Mister Howell knocked on the door as she was wrapping it up.

"Dear, I should like to ask a favor of you," he asked. "If I give you $40,000, would you cater a special dinner for me and our new resident swami?"

"No, because I know what you're trying, and it won't work," Mary Ann retorted. The Professor glanced up from his equations as she continued. "Gilligan has a special gift, and it's wrong for you to try bribing him to be a moneymaker for you." The Professor laughed to himself.

"Oh no, that's not what I'm doing at all," Mr Howell insisted. "I…I wanted to have a congratulatory dinner! The works. Oysters, salad, fruits, truffles, caviar! The works! Pleeeease? Pretty pretty please?"

The Professor chimed in. "I think you should do it, Mary Ann. After all, $40,000 can buy you a lot of nothing on this island." Mary Ann chuckled. "I'll do it for $60,000," she said.

"You drive a hard bargain, Missy," Mr Howell said. "But I'm not the Wolf of Wall Street for nothing. It's a deal." Mary Ann winked at the Professor and apologized for her early leave.

_Mr Howell strongly underestimates Gilligan's appetite, _she thought, giggling.

-o0o-

"Professor?"

Ginger sauntered into the hut, interrupting his train of thought. The equations weren't looking right. He scribbled and tried again.

"What, Ginger?" he asked, annoyed.

"I was wondering if I could borrow your lab coat," she asked. "I am going to psychologically analyze Gilligan and I need it to be his psychiatrist."

The Professor looked up, puzzled. "Why do you need a lab coat for that?" he asked.

"It's part of my method actor training. I need to immerse myself in the part." She held up Mrs Howell's spectacles. "These make me feel smarter." She put them on. "Are they working?" She batted her eyelashes. The Professor sighed. This act again.

"Ginger, psychiatrists require years of specialized training and a medical license to prescribe medications. From what I can tell, you barely finished high school."

"But I studied under Lee Strasberg!" she insisted. "And I was in a movie once where I played a brilliant psychiatrist named Sophia Merkin who had worked with Jung. I learned a lot doing that, honest."

His shoulders slumped. "Fine. It's in the closet," he grumbled. "Now look, I have work to do."

"Professor…do you like…fancy furniture and wearing ascots? Do you like Noel Coward plays? Do you like me-like me?"

He pounded his fist on the table. "Ginger, look, I'm busy!"

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, scribbling something on a tablet. "It's much more serious than I thought. When I'm done with Gilligan, I'll see if I can cure you."

"Cure me from what?"

"Your condition," she insisted. "It's more common than you think. I know plenty of fellas in the theatre and interior design trades who have it."

The Professor shook his head. "I don't know what you're playing at, Ginger, but unless you want fresh water to drink, you are going to have to leave immediately." He got up and gently pushed her out the door. She was clearly insane.

-o0o-

Ginger played psychiatrist with Gilligan, and, after a little while, they discovered that the seeds Gilligan had been eating were, in fact, the source of his new talent. Ginger was very excited about the prospect of telling the Professor that she had made a scientific discovery. He would be so impressed, she thought, that he would abandon his condition and be converted to normal, and he would make passionate love to her on the beach like "From Here To Eternity."

They found the Professor and Skipper arguing at the table over the veracity of Gilligan's psychic abilities.

Ginger announced that she, too, could read minds, just like Gilligan. The Professor continued to deny these claims and said that in order to conclusively prove it, he would have to run strict controls.

The Skipper challenged her.

"36-22…36." She shook her head and crossed her fingers, clearly pleased that the Skipper had such a dirty mind. The Professor challenged her. He had no idea what those numbers meant, although he couldn't get them out of his mind.

"36-22-36," she said.

"Oh, that's just the atomic weight of sodium hydrochloride," he replied, reddening. Suddenly he realized the significance of the numbers and got embarrassed for having been trapped. Ugh, that's all he needed now, Ginger thinking he wanted her body.

"OH, no, Professor, you were thinking about Ginger's…"

"Never mind, Gilligan," he said. He asked Ginger how they were doing the trick, but she insisted it had to do with the seeds Gilligan had found. She handed one to him. He immediately identified it as one of the seeds superstitious natives had used in meditation ceremonies centuries ago. It was an astonishing discovery – they had been thought extinct.

Mary Ann finished up the chores and found the Professor reading in his usual spot.

"Anything interesting?" she asked, sitting next to him.

He showed her the seed. "It appears these seeds have a temporary effect on the human brain, allowing for telepathic communication."

Her eyes opened wide. "So they really can read minds?"

"It only lasts for about a half hour, and then it wears off. The tribes battled each other for years over them. Hundreds must have died for this power."

Mary Ann examined the book herself. The Professor handed her the seed so she could look at it.

"I certainly haven't seen this before," she said. "Do you think it's poisonous?"

"No, but it may be a mild hallucinogen, similar to the lysergic acid experiments conducted by Dr. Leary but not as powerful."

"I heard about those experiments," Mary Ann replied. "Messing with people's minds and all that. If you ask me, I'd rather just have a piece of chocolate cake!"

The Professor chuckled. "Well, I'll go tell the others about this property. I would like a bag to do an experiment on their potency. It would make an excellent chapter for my book on the tropical flora found in this island. And if they really do work, it could be an interesting way to approach diplomacy for world leaders."

"Well, I'm going to finish up the laundry," Mary Ann said. "Unless I can psychically tell Ginger to get up off her…never mind. See you later."

-o0o-

Gilligan came back some time later with seeds for everyone. They each grabbed a bag from him. The Professor ran back to his hut and immediately cut open a few. They leaked out a drop of sap. He examined the sap and realized that it was likely the source of the telepathic properties. He would find a way to extract it; if he could make a serum, it could be most useful to the UN. He daydreamt of a Nobel Prize.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Mr Howell said, walking past his door.

"What would?"

"The Nobel Prize," Howell said, popping his head in the door. He sauntered off back to his hut.

Meanwhile, Ginger and Mary Ann were argue-thinking in their hut. Ginger thought that Mary Ann was a smug little bitch. Mary Ann thought back._ Stupid, lazy whore._

"Well here's something for you!" Ginger said, thinking. _And you're an ugly little virgin._

Mary Ann was furious. "OH!" she cried, countering with the worst insult she could think of. _You're the lousiest actress I've ever seen! I walked out of one of your movies once!_

It escalated from there. Within a few minutes, they were half-strangling each other. The others gathered around and everyone started fighting. The Skipper took offense that the Professor believed he was the only reason they had survived. The Howells fought about how vapid Mrs Howell could be. The fight culminated when the Skipper agreed with Mary Ann that Ginger was lazy, causing Ginger to stomp off. The Professor heard the commotion and walked off in anger.

Mary Ann and Ginger continued their argument by the fire pit. The Professor had to step in and separate them before they ripped each other's hair out.

"Girls, PLEASE! Stop this!" he bellowed. Ginger glared at him and telepathically told him her diagnosis of his "condition."

"I'm a WHAT?" he said, looking at Ginger. "Hardly! OHHHH…Come on, Mary Ann. This is ridiculous. I need help," he grumbled.

Before any more violent incidents could arise, he dragged Mary Ann away from Ginger by the hand and they ran toward the west beach, far from the others. Mary Ann was too angry at Ginger to think of much else, and the whole way down the hill, the Professor could hear Mary Ann lay a stream of the strongest language he'd ever heard directed at Ginger. As much of a nice girl as she was on the outside, Mary Ann sure had a secret streak to her. She sure could outswear any sailor in her head.

Mary Ann heard this assessment in her own head and felt ashamed that the Professor heard such language in her mind. Now he'd never…

_Never what? _ The Professor thought back at her, stopping suddenly. "Mary Ann, I would love to know what you're thinking."

_That I love you? _She thought, her face growing an ever deeper shade of red.

The Professor did not hear this. He was too busy trying to tell her how he felt.

_May I kiss you, my darling?_

"I can't hear your thinking anymore," Mary Ann said, sadly. The Professor cleared his throat. _Missed your chance again, Hinkley._

"How long has it been since your last seed?" he asked. "I…consider this a psychological experiment.

"An hour exactly," she replied.

"Same here. Well, we know now how long it takes for the effects to wear off." The dread in his stomach relaxed. She felt similarly. "Sorry for subjecting you to my secret vocabulary," she said sheepishly.

"I must say, I was quite impressed," the Professor chuckled. "And relieved that you didn't direct any of that venom at me."

_How could I? I was too busy wishing you would kiss me,_ Mary Ann thought, tentatively. _Kiss me, Professor. Please. I love you so much._

They walked back to camp, each feeling equally sad, and unable to admit what they really had been thinking.

"Well, so much for world peace," the Professor said, kicking the sand.

"So much for Ginger's ego," Mary Ann added briskly. They broke out in peals of laughter as they reached camp. Mrs Howell was laying out on her chaise lounge, watching the merriment. She took a sip of her mai tai and sat up.

"What has you two laughing so much?" Mrs Howell asked. "What a dreadful day we've had."

That afternoon, Gilligan destroyed what was left of the seeds.


	15. Chapter 15

The Professor was hard at work on his preservative. The Skipper had been by earlier, asking strange questions about the silly invitation on his table. He resented that the Skipper seemed more interested in that, in fact, than in the fact that the food supply could be stretched for months. He shook his head, remembering that country club idea they had some time back, and how well that worked out.

Ginger came by the table. "Helloooo Professor," she cooed.

"Oh, hi," he said, removing a gourd shell from the makeshift Bunsen burner. "Watch out, you don't want this spilling on your dress."

"The Howells are having a party," she hinted.

"Yes, I know," he said, nodding at the invitation on the table.

Ginger put her hands on her hips. "Well, aren't you going to ask me?" she insisted.

"Ask you what?"

"To the party!"

The Professor scratched his head. "But I thought the invitation was the HOWELLS asking you to the party. Why would I invite you to a party I'm not throwing?"

Ginger finally came right out and asked him what had been on her mind for months now.

"Professor, I'm TRYING to get you to ask me out on a date."

"Oh." He stirred one of the gourds. "I can't do that. I…uh, I already asked someone."

"WHO? "You don't mean you're taking Mary Ann!"

"Of course I am," the Professor said, looking her square in the eye. "After all, I love her."

Ginger's eyes went huge as her rage bubbled over. "AFTER ALL WE SHARED!" she cried. Ginger picked up a gourd full of some liquid and splashed his shirt. "How dare you! This is JUST like the plot of _Attack of the Robot King_!" Off she stomped to the huts. "FINE! THE SKIPPER WILL TAKE ME!"

The gourd was full of a mild acid that acted as an irritant. He was lucky she didn't pick up the hydrochloric acid, but he began to itch immediately. Mary Ann happened by with the dirty laundry basket as he ripped off his shirt.

"How's the preservative coming along, Professor?" she asked, suddenly realizing he was half naked. She blushed, remember the day he fished her out of the lagoon naked. "…Oh, sorry. Are you not feeling well?"

"Mary Ann! I…" He felt strangely vulnerable without his shirt. "I spilled some acid on my shirt. It won't destroy the fabric and it'll wash out, but it is a mild irritant."

"Oh, Professor," she scolded. "Why aren't you wearing a lab coat? Throw it in the basket. I'll run back and fetch you another shirt."

"Oh. Good idea. Better bring that, too. Just in case."

Mary Ann's face lit up when she saw the invitation to the cotillion on the table. "How nice of the Howells to invite all of us to their party this time!"

"I wonder how long it'll last before they throw us out," the Professor remarked. "I was just telling the Skipper how formal the language was on the card. _Requesting the honour of your presence."_

Mary Ann laughed. "I like to read it in Mrs Howell's voice," she said, pretending to read it with that lorgnette. "I suppose this party means I have to do more cooking than usual."

The Professor chuckled. "That said, would you do me the honor of letting me escort you?"

"Sure, as long as you dress more formally than the condition you're in now." She took off toward his hut to fetch his clothes. She returned a few minutes later.

"Here you are, Sire," she said, tossing the garments his way. "The Queen Mother says I've got to make a charming dessert. Good grief. See you tonight!"

-o0o-

Following an afternoon of pie baking and the slicing of fruits, Mary Ann found Ginger at her vanity, playing with her hair.

"I suppose you've come to gloat," Ginger said, icily.

"About what? The washing machine agitator?"

"No, the Professor."

"What about the Professor?" Mary Ann was really puzzled.

"He told me he loves you," Ginger said, shrugging. "ADORES you. I don't see why, but good luck."

Mary Ann started laughing. Ginger sure had some nerve. Deep down she hoped it was true, but she sure as heck wasn't about to let that one show.

"Riiiight. Are you feeling okay, Ginger?" Mary Ann went over to feel her forehead. Ginger recoiled and fluttered her eyelashes.

"I feel fine. Other than a broken heart!" she said dramatically, with a hand over her forehead for effect. "I'm going to write a play about this love triangle we are in. I feel so…so…betrayed!"

Mary Ann stood there with her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Ginger, I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you want to go to this party, you're going to have to help me cut that starfruit. I've been working all day."

"So have I. This play is going to be an off-off Broadway hit. I'll call it, _The Triangle_."

"Fantastic. You. Up. Out. Cut. Now."

"Fine. You just don't understand the artistic temperament," Ginger huffed. She went outside in her flowing leopard print gown and started cutting the starfruits that Gilligan had picked earlier. Ginger was muttering to herself about understudies when Gilligan stomped by.

"What's got you so grouchy?" Ginger asked.

"The Skipper never got an invitation to the party."

Ginger was genuinely shocked. The Howells could be uncouth sometimes, but to invite everyone but him was cruel. The Skipper walked past, going toward his hut looking as if he had lost his best friend.

"Hey," Ginger said. "Chin up!"

"Easy for YOU to say," the Skipper replied, walking inside to sulk. Gilligan followed the Skipper in the hut to talk out the problem.

The Professor came by to look for Mary Ann, but saw Ginger at the cutting table and recoiled. He walked around the bushes to avoid her. Mary Ann came around the corner of the hut carrying freshly-washed laundry.

"All done!" she shouted chipperly.

"SHHHH," the Professor said, putting his finger over her mouth to shush her. Mary Ann looked around the corner to see Ginger. She stepped back.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Ginger's out of her mind today. She came by trying to wheedle me into taking her to this party. If you must know, that's why I was covered in that acid."

Mary Ann stifled a giggle. "Noooo! I swear, that girl is getting weirder and weirder. She was trying to tell me my horoscope a while ago. I told her she was off her rocker. Come to think of it, maybe it's not wise to let her alone with a knife."

The Professor rolled his eyes. "There's safety in numbers, my dear. Tell you what. I'll help you hang this up if you help me get a moment's peace."

"Deal." They got the laundry hung a few moments later and Mary Ann put the basket on top of the washing machine. "Let's go see what the others are up to."

Ginger looked up to see them walking toward the Skipper and Gilligan's hut. The Professor was holding Mary Ann's hand.

"How's the starfruit coming, Ginger?" Mary Ann asked.

"Fine. Although I don't think it's right," she grumbled.

"What isn't right, Ginger?" asked the Professor.

"The Skipper not being invited."

The Professor and Mary Ann looked at each other in surprise. Surely the Howells…well. It wasn't like this hadn't happened before, really.

The three of them marched over to the Skipper's hut.

"Hi, Skipper. Did you get your invitation?" the Professor asked tentatively, as they filed inside.

"I did not," he replied.

"Ohhh, I think that's terrible,"Mary Ann said.

"Yeah, I was counting on a number of dances with you, Skipper. Now it won't be any fun at all," Ginger said.

"If the Skipper's not going, I'm not going either," Gilligan said indignantly.

"Isn't that nice of Gilligan?" the Skipper said.

The Professor crossed his arms and nodded. "Well, I feel very strongly about this, myself, and I think I shall send my regrets to the Howells, also."

Mary Ann chimed in. "Well, you can count on me, too! How about you, Ginger?" she nodded, prompting her.

Ginger shrugged her shoulders. "Well, you bet! Imagine inviting everybody but the Skipper. I wouldn't dream about going to a party that's so unfair and so unjust. And besides, there won't be any single men to dance with." She glared at the Professor and Mary Ann as the Skipper protested their gestures.

The Professor suggested they throw their own party and not invite the Howells. Mary Ann enthusiastically agreed. Ginger suggested a masquerade party, and everyone thought it sounded fun.

-o0o-

Mary Ann walked over to the Professor's hut to bring him some fruit as a snack and to take the phonograph to set up by the table.

"Hi," he said, writing out some equations on the makeshift chalkboard.

"Hello! I brought you a snack." She put the plate down on the table. "We will have plenty to eat at this party, that's for sure! Anyway, I thought you might be hungry, since you didn't have lunch.

"Didn't I?" he asked. "I suppose I didn't. I'm very close to working out this preservative!"

"Wonderful!" she said, sitting down next to him. "Have you thought of a costume yet? I was going to see what I could make out of one of those costumes in the silent movie trunk. Ginger already nabbed the best costume out of there and the Dancing Girl is way too big for me."

"Is there anything in there that would work? I don't have much time to make anything."

"OH! I know! I can cut up that Mary Pickford dress in there to make you into Julius Caesar."

"You are a wizard! One of my favorite Shakespeare plays!"

"Mine too! I played Brutus in the high school readings."

The Professor laughed at that, remembering how she had once played Laertes. "Did your teacher find it funny to always cast you as the vengeful ones?" Mary Ann giggled.

"I suppose I just fit the bill. Hang on, I'm going to be even more of a genius. Get ready…." She paused for dramatic effect. "There was a bunch of gold foil in there that the costumer must have used for trim or something. I can make you a laurel wreath for your head."

"Delightful!" He got up, noticing Mary Ann was struggling with the phonograph. "Here, I'll help carry that out to the table for you."

"Thank you," she replied, letting him take over. He lifted the contraption and took it out to the eating area. When he returned, she said, "You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh?"

She pointed at the slate.

"So I have," he remarked, looking down and then back up at her. "How did…I mean…"

"I was just always good with numbers," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"You mean to tell me you're a math whiz?" He asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, putting her hands on her hips. "Really, Professor!"

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I'm impressed by your abilities. I had no idea."

"I never liked math," she said honestly. "I was just good at it without even trying. I was up for a scholarship in school, and tied with Johnny Evans, but the teacher and principal laughed at the idea of a girl getting a math prize, so he took it home."

The Professor was shocked. He would never have done that to any of his students, male or female. He expressed this to Mary Ann. "You mean to tell me that they robbed you of a chance to go to college?"

"Yeah," she said bitterly. "Not like Johnny needed the money, anyway. His old man owned the Winfield Savings and Loan. My dad owed him some money."

"I'm terribly sorry to bring it up," the Professor said. "If it makes you feel any better, I could always use a backup mathematician."

Mary Ann brightened a bit. "Okay," she agreed. "I took one of those IQ tests in school once," she continued. "Is 157 any good?"

"Is it any good?" the Professor laughed. "My dear, you're two points higher than I am!"

Mary Ann scoffed at that notion and said she had a Julius Caesar costume to make. The Professor shook his head and went back to work. _Little Mary Ann, you are full of surprises,_ he thought.

-o0o-

"Let me know if it fits," Mary Ann said, returning two hours later with a Julius Caesar costume, complete with laurel wreath and mask she'd cut out of a thin rubber mat. The Professor looked at it in astonishment. The girl was talented, no doubt about it.

"Oh my goodness," he exclaimed. "You – how did you make the neckline?"

"I just cut up one of Ginger's favorite evening gowns and made a sort of garland out of them, then just basted them on. You like it?"

"You didn't," he laughed.

"Well, she should stop being such a crappy roommate. Any headway on the preservative?"

"I think we might have a winner. I'll test it on some dried guava tonight." He took the garment from her, admiring it. "You really are amazing," he said, turning around, but she waved goodbye and took off.

"I have to finish my costume!" she shouted. "See you tonight!"

-o0o-

The party was a disaster. The Howells got into a fight, then refused to see each other at the alternative party. Ginger came up with some underhanded notion to get them back together, which took Mary Ann away from her work for a few minutes, setting her on edge. Then there was a costume change on the dancing girl outfit, and Mary Ann had to let out the basting stitches. _All that work for nothing,_ she grumbled.

Then Gilligan, dressed as Tarzan the Jungle Boy, decided to show off and swing into the party on a vine. Unfortunately, physics wasn't his strong suit, and he crashed into the hut and got injured. They all tended to him. Ginger looked up and saw the Howells dancing together off to the side. She motioned for the Skipper as Mary Ann and the Professor examined Gilligan with broken bones. The Skipper followed Ginger over to the Howells. The Howells made up, and Ginger started dancing with the Skipper.

"I'm okay, really, I am," Gilligan said. "I think I just got the wind knocked out of me. You two go and dance."

"Are you sure?"

Gilligan smiled at them. Mary Ann and the Professor were both so nice and caring and sweet. He thought it would be nice if the two of them cared for each other as much as they did for him.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I just want some pie." Mary Ann fetched a big heaping piece for him while the Professor double-checked he didn't have a concussion.

"Go on, guys! Dance!" He shoved a giant forkful of pie into his mouth. Delicious.

"Fine, fine," the Professor replied, escorting Mary Ann out to the area where the other couples were slow dancing. The Skipper whispered something in Ginger's ear that made her giggle.

"You look wonderful," The Professor murmured in Mary Ann's ear. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Ginger grabbed the best stuff, so all I could put together was this half-baked Cinderella getup with the Mary Pickford wig and my swimsuit. I'm not even sure what this is. I must say, your Caesar costume looks great. Even with the socks." She grinned.

"I…yes, I suppose they do detract from the Roman effect," he laughed. "Maybe Julius was protecting against malaria."

"Well, that's very sensible," Mary Ann replied."

They continued dancing for some time, talking in conspiratorial whispers, giggling occasionally. In the meantime, Mister Howell got drunk and knocked over the bench, and Gilligan got drunk on what he thought was pineapple juice (but was really Mrs Howell's mai tai). And god knows where Ginger and the Skipper had gotten to – oh. Never mind.


	16. Chapter 16

_27 January 1966_

_The seeds seem to be a sort of hallucinatory agent, allowing for people to communicate telepathically. This caused a spot of chaos in our makeshift society. It seems my experiments in peace negotiation have failed on a small scale. _

_I was so concerned the others might find out about the secret I keep closest to my heart. If they knew about how I felt about Mary Ann, it would cause a serious dynamic shift. I attempted to remove ourselves from the group. In my own cowardly way, I suppose I hoped that she would be able to read my mind and know why I've done nothing all these months. By the time we were far enough away, however, the effect of the seeds had worn off. I then found myself too bashful to admit my feelings out loud. _

"Can I talk to you?"

The Professor, startled out of his thoughts, suddenly looked up from the book he was writing in and reddened. He closed it and set it to the side.

Mary Ann was livid. From the look of her face, she was probably thinking the same stream of profanities as she had when they ate those seeds.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Mary Ann sat down next to him and frowned.

"I swear, that Ginger is off her rocker," she replied, twiddling her thumbs on the table, trying to calm down. "I thought it was strange when I caught her trying to make out with that robot, but today her excuse for not helping with the cooking was picking up her tarot cards and telling me that she 'didn't see it in her future.'" She did this in a mocking Ginger voice.

The Professor's eyebrows raised in surprise. He knew Ginger was…eager…but that seemed a little extreme, even for her.

"Ginger tried seducing a robot?"

Mary Ann nodded, realized how insane it sounded, and chuckled halfheartedly. "I swear on my grandmother's grave," she said. "It was…disturbing, to say the least."

"So what has you so angry right now?"

"I told her she had to get off her rear end and help, and she told me I was going to die an old maid because all I ever did was work. That escalated fast. I was ready to punch her. Miss High-and-Mighty Movie Star, I called her."

He shook his head sadly as he tapped his pencil on his journal. "I'm wondering if this island madness is playing with her mind. Or perhaps she's always been off her rocker. We don't know."

"All I know is, it's getting harder and harder to live with her. And since she and the Skipper – "

The Professor's jaw really dropped now. "She and the Skipper...what?"

Mary Ann shook her head. "Since the night at the Howells' party, those two have been sneaking off to make out in the jungle. I don't know if we're supposed to know this, but…ugh. This island is driving everyone insane. Except you. I hope."

The Professor sighed and steepled his hands under his chin. "Mary Ann, I'm afraid everyone's going a bit crazy, being cooped up here. We're all on edge. I just heard the Howells arguing in their hut, too."

"Is there a way to calm everyone down? I know I complain all the time about Ginger being such a prima donna, but maybe if we concoct a plan to have her put on a magic show, everyone will think we'll get rescued, and maybe focus on that for a while instead of fighting. She'll listen to you. If I say something she'll just mouth off again."

The Professor mulled that over. "Hmm," he replied. "It could work. You can't let anyone know you're in on it."

"Get her to do some magic show with her séance act and the others will think a boat is coming. That will shut them up, she'll get to perform something, and she'll stop trying to tell me my horoscope."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," he said, smiling. "I'll come up with something." He left in a hurry, leaving the red book on the table. Mary Ann glanced over it and picked it up, thinking it was some botany notes, and glanced inside. It was his personal diary.

Cheeks reddening, she replaced it without reading it, feeling a weird mixture of embarrassment, shame and curiosity.

_I won't read it,_ she thought. _Even though I want to know so badly what he thinks, I won't violate his privacy. He wouldn't do that to me. _She took the high road this time and decided to go gather some firewood.

The Professor came back a couple of minutes later. To his relief, his book lay untouched on the table.

-o0o-

After an hour of planning the scheme to placate Ginger, the Professor had convinced her to tell everyone that a ship was coming. He stole a look at Mary Ann during the "performance." She was acting quite convincingly that she believed Ginger's psychic hogwash. Mary Ann glanced back at him, their eyes meeting. She gave him a small smile as Ginger predicted a whole fleet of ships.

In an incredible coincidence, the radio interrupted the séance with an announcement that there would be over a hundred military ships searching the area. No one was more surprised than Ginger. As the others stormed the stage to congratulate their good fortune, Ginger fainted dead away.

"I can't believe it," Mary Ann whispered to the Professor, when everyone had gone into their huts to pack. "It's too fantastic a coincidence."

"I have to admit, it is fairly incredible."

"It's going to be sad, leaving our little island," she sighed.

"Yes," the Professor replied. "I was thinking the same thing." He looked at her sadly. "Well, we had better get to bed."

She smiled sadly, thinking how nice it was to hear that last sentence. _We_.

"Goodnight, Professor," she said.

"Goodnight."

That night, Mary Ann lay in her cot, thinking about what would happen to all of them when the ships came and they all went their separate ways. The Professor was from Cleveland – hundreds of miles from Kansas. The thought of never seeing him again made her very sad. He had taught her so much, and she enjoyed his witty company more than anyone else she had ever met. Kansas was looking less and less like home, and more of a prison sentence.

Across camp, the Professor sat in his pyjamas, unable to sleep. He still felt Mary Ann's kiss on his cheek. He wondered what would happen when they returned to civilization. He had grown accustomed to Mary Ann's constant companionship, and had come to rely on her for his research, his entertainment, his sanity. When he read over his notes, they were in her voice, now. He could not unlink his research from her, nor did he want to. And the prospect of teaching high school dunderhead science was a dismal one.

-o0o-

The next morning, Mary Ann took a bucket of warm water to the Professor's so he could have a shave. He always shaved outside, because the inside of his hut was too dark. He saw her approaching in the reflection.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall," she said, chipperly, looking at them framed together in the mirror. She liked the effect. They looked great together. She wondered how soft his cheeks felt.

"Good morning, Mary Ann," he said, tentatively, dipping his straight razor in the warm water. She was close. So very close. She smelled of fresh laundry and guava and pineapple – a rather intoxicating combination. Not knowing what else to say, he blurted out the first thing that popped in his mind. "It would seem that you've been using our razor to cut bamboo, again." It came out more sternly than he intended. Fortunately, Mary Ann didn't seem to notice.

"You are as good a fortune teller as Ginger."

The Professor smiled slightly as he started cleaning up his face. "By the way, have you and Ginger settled your quarrel yet?"

"Quarrel?" she asked, mock-innocently. "What with a rescue ship on the way, what is there to quarrel about?"

"Absolutely nothing," he said, smiling conspiratorially. He dabbed at his neck with the towel as she walked down toward the Howells' hut. Gilligan came running up the path with some blue papers.

A few minutes later, Mary Ann came back up the path with the empty bucket.

"Sorry about the razor, Professor," she said. He raised his hand to let her know it wasn't that bad.

"Just a little nick, nothing terrible. We're going to have to sharpen Gilligan's pocket knife, though. I have to light a signal fire on the north shore. Would you like to go for a swim along the beach with me this afternoon? We can keep an eye out for any incoming ships."

"Sure," she replied. "It's pretty hot out. The north beach inlet will be nice and shady."

-o0o-

A little while later, Mary Ann found the Professor chopping wood for his signal fire. The Castaways had all scattered to various areas of the island to tend to their own signals. Mary Ann piled up some of the logs, just as she'd been taught in Girl Scouts, and soon a nice fire was roaring.

"Perfect for a 90º day, isn't it?" she laughed. The Professor finished chopping and built a second fire fifty yards away.

"That should do it," he said. "The wood is just damp enough to smoke nicely. It'll be visible for miles. Let's go for that swim. Be right back." He ducked behind a rock to pull out his swim trunks from his backpack and changed quickly. His work shirt was sweaty and disgusting; it was going to be nice to hop in the water for a cool swim. The inlet in this area was lovely, with a little waterfall and plenty of shade.

They swam for a little while, and Mary Ann soon motioned for him to join her in the little grotto by the waterfall. She'd surprised him with a little picnic. The afternoon's exercise had winded them both. They perched themselves on a rock by the water's edge, situated under some large fronds that shielded the sun quite nicely. The Professor admired the way the light shone on Mary Ann's hair. Mary Ann certainly enjoyed the way the light played on the water droplets rolling off of his muscular back. She wondered briefly what it would be like to run her fingers over his shoulder blades.

"You won't believe what our scheme did," he lamented, breaking the spell. "Island madness."

Mary Ann sighed and handed him a banana. "What's Ginger done now?"

"She thinks she's a real swami. Those rescue ships can't come soon enough."

"She believes her own act?" Mary Ann laughed.

"Yes, I'm afraid she's blacked out your hut with a bunch of blankets."

Mary Ann rolled her eyes. "Oh dear, this is mostly my fault. That's what I get for trying to placate Madame Queen. Well, when we get back to the mainland, at least she'll have something to fall back on if her career doesn't pick back up. It's like that Sir Walter Scott quote: _Oh, what a tangled web we weave_…"

"_When first we practice to deceive_," the Professor finished. _Dammit, he thought. I could have sworn that was Shakespeare. _

"What do you plan on doing when you get back?" she asked.

"I suppose I'll go back into academia. I don't want to teach another year of high school. The idea depresses me. There's no challenge. They just want to play football; they're not like you. Eager to learn things."

"I will miss you terribly," she said, fighting the lump in her throat. "I wish…"

she trailed off, touching his arm. "I hate to admit this now that it's happening, but the idea of going back to Kansas feels…bleak. What's waiting for me there? A bunch of young farm boys I'll never relate to, and a lifetime ahead of canning and milking cows?"

"Why would you have to stay in Kansas?" he asked.

"I don't know where else I would go." She splashed her feet in the water. "I have no money or purpose or intellectual challenge back home. Oh, Professor, it's so beautiful here," she said, looking out toward the ocean for a ship that might arrive any minute. The Professor opened a passionfruit and picked at it quietly.

"It is, isn't it?" he said sadly.

"PROFESSOR? MARY ANN?" The Skipper's voice roared through the jungle, interrupting the Professor.

"DOWN HERE," they shouted. The Skipper found them in the glade, resting. He smiled at the pair.

"So you're swimming instead of making signal fires?" he joked. "Are you sure you two want to leave at all?"

"Oh, we made the fires," Mary Ann replied.

The Skipper walked down to the rock and sampled a banana from Mary Ann's picnic basket. "To be honest, I don't see anything. I've been signaling and signaling and there's simply nothing out there. Gilligan's been up in a tree for two hours. The Howells haven't seen anything either. I think we should all go back to camp and get something to eat. The news will be on in a little while. We'll let the signal fires burn out and try again this evening when we're more visible."

"Good idea," the Professor agreed, helping Mary Ann to her feet. "We were just talking about what we'll do when we get back to civilization. Mary Ann is going back to milking cows and I'll be stuck teaching high school science again. How about you, Skipper?"

"First course of action: a nice t-bone steak, a strawberry milkshake, and Ging- ," he replied, dreamily. "Never mind. Let's get back to the lagoon."

-o0o-

The Castaways gathered around the radio for the 6:00 news, when they learned that the fleet had been called back. So much for Ginger's prediction. Just a coincidence after all. Mary Ann realized that things were going to be much more screwed up from now on if this psychic charade kept up. With the Howells convinced that she was a marvel, and Gilligan insisting he was going to captain a ship, she sat at the table stewing.

Ginger had gotten much worse in her conviction that she was a genuine psychic, and the Professor had had enough. He was mad at himself for making a mess of the plan he and Mary Ann had hatched out.

"You said they were coming for us," whined Mrs Howell.

"Well, how about it, Ginger?" Mary Ann asked.

"Go ahead, Ginger, tell them," the Professor prompted.

"TELL THEM?" Ginger asked, incredulously.

"Yes, what you told me, not twenty minutes ago. Ginger saw in her crystal ball that the York was found," he said. _Boy, you're smooth,_ Mary Ann thought. _Now everyone is going to be pissed off and their morale is gonna tank. _ She cleared her throat, relieved she hadn't said that aloud.

The Professor announced to everyone that Ginger would make her announcement in a séance that night, then he dragged Ginger in the hut. Mary Ann rolled her eyes. He was about to make a big mistake. She thought about coming clean and admitting everything, but she didn't want to have to deal with Ginger whining about her being a rotten person, so she kept her mouth shut.

She could hear the Professor arguing with Ginger over her act. Ginger finally admitted she was tired of conning everyone. Mary Ann rolled her eyes and went back to the cooking pots. A little while later, the Professor joined her.

"I can fillet the fish," he said. She nodded cheerfully and chopped some herbs for the stew.

"So what are we going to do now?" she asked, laughing.

"Well, Gilligan broke the crystal ball, and I said she should do a séance. You should have seen her almost melt through the ground, until I told her to come clean in secret notes to everyone."

The Professor stirred the cauldron while she dropped ingredients into the pot. It smelled delicious.

"Are you relieved?" she asked. "About the fleet not coming, I mean."

The Professor looked up and smiled at her. "All's well that ends well, right?"

"Shakespeare, again."


	17. Chapter 17

The night was a little chilly, with a cool front coming in off the ocean, so the Professor built a bonfire near the Howells' hut. Mary Ann joined him a little while later, and they sat against a log talking about the island visitor, wondering if things were going well for the Skipper and Gilligan.

The Howells came outside, sipping mai tais, discussing whether or not it would be proper to have a wealthy Russian come to their cotillion.

Ginger joined the group a little while later and sat on a log to file her nails.

"When do you think they'll get back from Balinkoff's island?" she asked. "I'm dying to know what it's like. He said he lived in a castle, so he must have plenty of dough."

Mary Ann smiled quietly. She tried kissing Balinkoff on the cheek earlier to try and rouse some jealousy in the Professor, who was sitting at the table. But either he didn't see them or he wasn't interested.

The Professor, in fact, _had_ seen Mary Ann kissing that strange man, and it made him strangely uncomfortable and protective. Although it was clear she was just playing along, he kept seeing it over and over in his mind, and it upset him. Not to mention the fact that the whole visitation made him uneasy. Who was this man? How did he find them? What was his agenda?

He worried about the Skipper and Gilligan.

"I see a light!" Mary Ann exclaimed, standing up and racing toward the lagoon. The others followed her. It was the yacht returning, with Igor in tow.

"In," Boris commanded.

They all looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Mr Howell spoke first.

"My dear man, thank you for your hospitality."

"Yes, it's the mark of good breeding," Mrs Howell added.

"No talk. In." He said nothing else.

The Professor and Mary Ann sat up front, while Ginger and the Howells sat on the bench behind them. The ocean was fairly calm, but the boat bobbed up and down in the waves. No one knew what to expect, but the large island with the enormous fortress looming ahead of them after the half hour boat ride was enough to intimidate anyone. Mary Ann clutched at the Professor when they neared the shore.

"Where the devil are we?" Mr Howell asked.

There was no answer for this. Igor landed the boat on the dock. The Professor climbed out first and helped the others get out safely. Mrs Howell looked up at the castle.

"Oh, Thurston, wouldn't this make a delightful summer home? We'd have to do renovations, of course, but the view is simply marvelous."

Mr Howell loosened his collar. "I can make an offer later, Lovey. If we aren't tortured first."

"Go that way," Igor droned, motioning toward the crooked path toward the castle. Mary Ann clasped the Professor's hand in hers so hard that her knuckles went white. He clasped back. _This was a terrible idea_, he thought_. I'll have to think of a way to get the Skipper and Gilligan and get control of that boat. _

They reached the door. Igor opened it by punching in a key code – very sophisticated technology – and it swung open slowly.

"In here," Igor said, guiding everyone inside. "I go find Dr Balinkoff now. Go in dining room, all."

The Professor leaned down to whisper to Mary Ann. "We're going to go try finding the Skipper and Gilligan." She nodded.

"No talk!" Igor thundered. "Get dinner."

They meekly filed into the dining room and were ordered to sit at the table. Igor wheeled in a cart filled with steaks, vegetables, and wine. They each gingerly took bites, afraid it might be poisoned. No one touched the wine, except Mrs Howell, who took a nice sip of it, declaring it to be 'perfectly awful.'

Cobwebs dripped off of the fine furnishings, giving it the impression that no one had actually inhabited the space for at least twenty years. The paintings on the wall had intense stares. If Mary Ann were honest with herself, she could have sworn one of the paintings was actually staring at them. After Igor had left, the Professor opened the door and looked around for signs of anyone.

"The coast is clear. Mr Howell, let's see if we can find the Skipper and Gilligan and get out of here."

Mr Howell looked shocked that he would be asked to participate in such a thing, but he kissed his Lovey goodbye with a dramatic flair, as if he were marching into battle.

"Oh, Thurston! You're so braaaave!" Mrs Howell said, dabbing her eye.

"Come on, we have no time to lose!" the Professor whispered urgently. The two men snuck out of the room. "Let's examine the grounds and see if we can find any sign of the Skipper and Gilligan," he whispered.

-o0o-

The painting's eyes shifted.

"Why do I have the feeling that I'm being watched?" Ginger asked.

Mary Ann wrung her hands, picturing the men being tortured or held at gunpoint somewhere in the castle. She was getting increasingly upset. "Oh, we shouldn't have let Mr Howell and the Professor go out looking by themselves!"

Mrs Howell patted her on the shoulder. "I'm sure they'll find Gilligan and the Skipper," she said, reassuringly.

"Y'know, I made a lot of movies in haunted houses," Ginger said, walking toward the window, "and if I ever wanted to find anybody, I always knocked on the window seat." She did so for effect….and something knocked back. Startled, the women clung to each other in a pile. Something WAS watching them.

"Maybe it was an echo," Mary Ann suggested.

"Yeah, maybe that seat is just hollow," Ginger replied. "Oh, I'm getting scared now. I want to get out of here."

A crash from outside was heard, and Mrs Howell fainted. Mary Ann and Ginger picked her up and carried her over to the chaise lounge to recover. She was passed out.

"The wine!" Mary Ann said, sniffing it. "Don't drink it, Ginger. I think it's drugged."

"There was no way I'd drink it anyway," she replied.

Mary Ann examined Mrs Howell. She seemed to be alright, just sound asleep. Her pulse seemed normal. She and Ginger sat on the settee together and kept an eye on her.

"Mary Ann –" Ginger said, "I'm really sorry."

"For what?" Mary Ann asked, genuinely confused.

"For being a real diva. I haven't been helping you as much as I should have."

"It doesn't matter now, Ginger."

"But it does. I've been selfish and vain and jealous of you from day one and I'm sorry. If we get killed here, I don't want to die with you mad at me."

"Jealous? Why?" Mary Ann almost laughed, but Ginger's seriousness alarmed her.

"Because you're nice, and sweet, and you care about everyone, even me. I've done nothing but flit around and make excuses to get out of work, and I'm sorry."

"Oh, that's not true," Mary Ann lied.

"I…I can see why the Professor is in love with you," she said softly. "I guess I'm jealous of that, too."

Now Mary Ann was really shocked. "In love with me? The PROFESSOR?" she laughed. "You call barking orders at me 'love'? Mary Ann, pass me the potassium chloride. Mary Ann, pedal faster. Mary Ann, I need that serum."

Ginger laughed. "You really don't know, do you? I've tried to get his attention all these months, used all my tricks. I even thought he might have been a fairy for a while, until we ate those seeds. But I heard something else, almost a whisper, when I was reading his mind. He said he loved you."

Mary Ann shook her head determinedly. "Ginger, we can't think about that now. We need to get Mrs Howell conscious and we need to get out of here."

"I'm conscious, darlings," Mrs Howell murmured, before clutching the pillow and konking out again.

"Well, I just wanted to speak my peace," Ginger said. "And I see it now. You and the Professor would have made a really cute couple."

"Ginger, we are not going to die in here," Mary Ann said urgently, trying to convince herself. "You're talking nonsense now. Come on. Help me revive Mrs Howell."

The actress shrugged her shoulders. "It never ended well for the beautiful girl in the movies."

Mary Ann put her hands on her hips. "Ginger. HELP ME NOW."

-o0o-

Twenty minutes later, the Professor and Mr Howell returned from their exploration of the castle grounds.

"Why would the good doctor say they were in the greenhouse when he doesn't even have one?" Mr Howell asked.

"I'm beginning to believe the good doctor is sly, cunning, and underhanded," the Professor replied.

"Good heavens, that's MY territory," Mr Howell quipped, putting his hands in his pockets."

"I'll look upstairs. You stay here and let me know if they show up or if anything unnatural happens," the Professor replied, starting up the stairs. He had no time for any weak Howell jokes. The others could be in danger.

"Yeah, that's good, but what will I use for a signal?" Mr Howell said, looking around for something that could work.

"I don't care, ANYTHING!" The Professor ran the rest of the way up the stairs.

"How about a high-piercing scream?"

-o0o-

The Professor went down the upstairs hallway. Nothing particularly unusual up there – a few unused bedrooms, equally cobwebby; a library full of old books – the desire to look through some of them was incredibly tempting – and a bathroom with a large clawfoot tub. No sign of anyone, however. The Professor went back into the library to see what volumes it contained.

_Mind Over Body: The Art of Hypnosis_

_The Animal Mind_

_Mad Scientific American_

The Professor pulled more and more books off the shelf. All had something to do with animal mind control, hypnosis techniques, and electrical engineering. He was getting uneasy – although his choice in reading seemed interesting enough, he suspected that the doctor was insane and possibly criminal. In a flood of panic, he thought of Mary Ann, Ginger, and Mrs Howell all alone in that dining room. His heart leapt to his throat. He had to get downstairs and find them. Howell had disappeared. There was no sign of him anywhere; not a voice, not a trace. _He must have gone back with the women,_ he thought, annoyed.

-o0o-

The Professor burst in, about to give Mr Howell a piece of his mind. Mrs Howell had revived and was currently complaining about the lack of servants in such a large house. Mary Ann and Ginger were on the settee. Mary Ann looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"You're okay! Where is Mr Howell?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, where is my Thurston?" Mrs Howell chimed in.

"You mean he isn't in here?" the Professor asked. He shut the door behind him. "We split up to explore the property. We found neither hide nor hair of the Skipper or Gilligan.

Mary Ann bit her thumbnail. Ginger patted her on the back and stood up. "I think you should sit with her a while, Professor," she suggested. She walked to the bookshelf and pulled off a volume.

"_Wild Animals I Have Known?" _she asked. "Yeesh, what I wouldn't give for a new script."

The Professor sat next to Mary Ann and gently patted her shoulder. Thurston Howell burst into the room, declaring the doctor insane. They all got up and gathered around him as he told a bizarre story about a nefarious plan to take over the world through the mind control of people.

Suddenly, Balinkoff appeared in the room. He had been watching them through the painting and heard the entire exchange. He pointed a gun at the group. The Professor clutched Mary Ann.

"So you know my plan!" Boris shouted. "Splendid. Well, that will make life much easier for all of us. You will join the other two in the torture chamber."

-o0o-

The reunion with Gilligan and the Skipper was a dark, damp, uncomfortable one. The Professor, Mrs Howell, and the Skipper were chained to iron bars. Mary Ann was locked in the stocks, and Ginger was put on the stretcher. Mr Howell and Gilligan were dragged upstairs minutes before to the mad doctor's laboratory.

"I wish I knew what they're doing with my darling Thurston," Mrs Howell lamented.

"Yes, and my little buddy, too!" the Skipper wailed.

"Well, I'm afraid we must be prepared for the worst," the ever-pragmatic Professor replied, trying to wriggle out of his chains, to no avail.

"What could be worse than this?" Ginger whined from the stretcher.

"Well, at least you're lying down," Mary Ann replied. "They're trying to make a pretzel out of me!"

"Oh, this is going to ruin my whole career," Ginger continued, "I mean, after all, who wants to play opposite a seven-foot leading lady?"

_So much for true confessions,_ thought Mary Ann, as she rolled her eyes and tried to lift the bar with her neck. It was securely bolted. She wondered what the witches of Salem must have felt like.

Gilligan and Mr Howell bounded down the stairs, but soon it became apparent, to everyone's horror, that the men had switched bodies. No one was more horrified than Mrs Howell.

'When you were in his laboratory, did either one of you see a way to escape?" the Professor asked.

'When I was me, I was too scared," Gilligan replied – or Thurston – it was all very confusing.

"It's hopeless, absolutely hopeless," replied Mr Howell.

They heard Igor returning. Gilligan/Mr Howell tried to jump him as he came down the stairs, but to no avail. Igor was like a tank. He fended off his attackers easily, chained them up, and forced Mrs Howell and the Skipper up the stairs to the laboratory next.

Twenty minutes later, they came down with Igor, switched.

"You. Her. Next." Igor pointed at the Professor and Mary Ann. He unlocked Mary Ann from the stocks and grabbed the Professor, shoving them toward the stairs. The Professor knew that there was no way he could overtake Igor if the Skipper couldn't, and at least they would have an opportunity to search for a means of escape. Igor threw Mary Ann over his shoulder. She screamed and hit his back trying to get out of his grip, but he was too strong.

They were led/carried into the laboratory, where there were two glass booths. The Professor was shoved into one by Balinkoff, and Igor tossed Mary Ann into the other. The Professor watched the process: Boris threw the switch in front of them. An electrical current ran through his body. Suddenly he found himself staring out of the other booth, fifteen feet away. He looked down. He was wearing a gingham dress and little red skimmers. Suddenly, he felt incredibly strange as he realized that he had the anatomy of a woman.

Mary Ann was undergoing a similar awakening as she found herself in a corduroy jacket and trousers. She'd always wondered what it would be like to be a man…and it was really, really strange. She tried not to think about…that.

They exited the booths and looked at each other in bewilderment.

"This is…" she began, slightly embarrassed.

"I know," he replied.

They were led into a room and forced to sit in chairs. Each had a wired helmet strapped to their heads. Boris sat facing them, with some sort of instrument reading data off of them. The Professor thought it might operate something like a lie detector, but he couldn't be sure.

"Now, leetle girlie," Boris said, looking at the Professor, "I want you to tell me all sensations you feel." The Professor flatly refused. Boris hit a switch lever on the machine, sending the Professor into convulsions. Mary Ann watched in horror as her former body shook in the chair.

"TELL ME," Boris shouted.

The Professor described every physical sensation he felt as a woman. Mary Ann did the same. Both of them were mortified, but after about half an hour, Balinkoff was satisfied with the results.

"I will return you to your chamber. I will see what happens with your friend the movie star and Igor," Boris said, cackling. "I always did have a weird sense of humor, no?"

Mary Ann and the Professor were taken back down to the dungeon. The Professor tripped and whacked his elbow on the door frame. "I'm sorry, Mary Ann, you're going to have a nasty bruise," he said.

"I'm not entirely sure how to walk," she replied. "It's very strange." The Professor blushed.

"Get down there," Boris commanded. They complied and got re-shackled. The Professor was in the middle of the room, chained to the gibbet. Mary Ann was shackled to the wall behind him.

They remained there for some time. The Professor was determined to get back up to that laboratory and work the control panel. They heard someone coming down the stairs. It was Ginger…in Igor's body. Ginger nearly had a breakdown when she saw her transformation in the mirror.

The Professor had an idea. If Ginger was now Igor, she should have the physical strength of Igor. Maybe this idea would work.


	18. Chapter 18

"Ginger, set us free!" the Professor shouted. Ginger protested at first, not believing her own strength. She waffled, thinking that the only thing she would be able to break would be a nail.

"Come on, Ginger! Me first!" the Skipper commanded, out of Mrs Howell's body.

"This is silly! I can't break iron chains!"

Ginger pulled on the iron links, and amazingly, they broke apart like plastic.

"I did it! I did it!" she cried in glee. It was hard not to laugh at the towering giant with the breathy movie star voice, but there wasn't much time to be wasted. The Professor pulled the cuffs off of his/her arms and got to work freeing the rest. The keys were still in Igor's body's pocket, thankfully.

The Professor stomped over to the stairs. His pigtails tickled his neck as they swung around. He was never going to get used to being in a dress.

"Alright, everyone. On the count of three, we storm upstairs into the laboratory. We'll switch back to our own bodies and attempt to get them cornered," the Professor ordered. He bounded up the stairs, but forgot he was still in a woman's body, and a much more petite frame, at that. He tripped on the stairs and skinned his hand a little.

"Ouch! Sorry, Mary Ann!" he shouted.

"What?" He looked over at his own former self, now wide eyed and moving in a manner he never would: flailing arms and girly mannerisms. He shook his head at the absurdity of the situation. One day he would write about this in his journal. If they made it back to the island, that was. They had to act fast.

Everyone bounded up the stairs. The Professor led them into the laboratory. They shuffled in and gathered around the control switch. Boris and Igor were nowhere to be seen.

"Alright, Gilligan, you and Mister Howell, you in first." The Professor directed them into the booths. His body was petite, but even he was surprised at the strength Mary Ann's arms had. "Skipper, close the door. GINGER! Over there!"

The others stood around as the Professor marched back and threw the switch. "Alright now, Skipper, watch what I do."

A great electrical current charged through the booths, switching Gilligan and Mr Howell back to normal.

"Am I me?" Gilligan asked, stepping out of the booth.

"That you are," the Professor replied, smiling. He looked over at Mary Ann. _Well, now I know more about you than anyone possibly could, _he thought. Mary Ann's face said the exact same thing.

"Alright, Skipper, you take over the control switch. Mary Ann, in the booth," the Professor commanded. She jumped in, and they switched back with the same electrical current as before. They hopped out of the booths and got to work getting the rest of the Castaways back into their normal bodies. Ginger whined about her setup. Everyone had to agree – she had gotten the worst deal of the lot.

Ginger, for the first time in her life, inhabited a body that was not beautiful – or female, for that matter. She wondered what life would be like back in Hollywood. She felt punished for all the times she made fun of the campy guys in the theatre. Her friend back home, an effeminate MGM makeup artist named Antoine, often chastised her for her exaggerated impressions of his friends. And now, finding herself in a situation where others would misinterpret her – she didn't want to think about it too much. She made a mental note, however, to stop mocking Antoine's friends when she returned home.

Suddenly, Boris arrived to find everyone switching back. He started to get Igor to trap the rest, but forgot that Igor was now inhabiting Ginger's body. He appeared out of nowhere behind Boris. He had been…enjoying…his new corporeal existence for the past half hour. Some things were best left to the imagination.

The rest were able to switch Igor and Ginger back, then they overpowered Boris and Igor, shoving them into the switching booths. In one final act of defiance, Gilligan switched them into the cat and dog they had seen earlier.

"Let's get out of here," the Skipper said. They all ran out the door toward the little boat.

"That thing isn't seaworthy enough to take the seven of us toward the shipping lanes!" the Professor exclaimed. "At best, we can make it back to the island."

"We could just stay here," Gilligan said. "If we keep Boris and Igor as a cat and a dog. I like this castle."

Mrs Howell agreed. "It is a dreary old place now, but with the right touches we could make it quite elegant."

"Did anyone think to look for a telephone?" Mary Ann asked. It seemed that in everyone's desperation to find the Skipper and Gilligan, no one had bothered. The Professor looked around. "There doesn't seem to be any cables here. I suspect the doctor must keep in touch with the Mainland via transmitter of some kind, but I didn't see any. Did any of you?"

They shook their heads.

"It's almost as if he's straight out of the 19th century," Ginger said. They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

"Well, what do we do?" Mr Howell asked. "Should we stay here and take over the castle, or go back to our dreary huts? I vote castle."

Just then, an explosion blew from the east wing of the castle. They stood there in awe as they watched that wall collapse. They needed no other answer.

"Let's get out of here," Gilligan shouted. They piled in the boat as a second explosion hit. Dust flew everywhere. The Skipper started the motor and they headed toward home.

-o0o-

They just made it. Unfortunately, the boat sunk when they returned to land. After the initial disappointment, the castaways stood around, recovering from their experiences. It had been a taxing evening.

"I was in a beach movie once called _The Night of the Haunted Bikini_, where there was a ghost haunting a beach and everyone could see a bikini floating in the dark. I played Go-Go Dancer #2," Ginger said.

"Go on," urged the Skipper, who was wide-eyed at that point. Mary Ann fought the urge to roll her eyes. Ginger was really trying.

"Well," Ginger continued, "In the movie the only way the teenagers were able to fend off their fright was to have a singalong and roast marshmallows. And the ghost joined in and they didn't know, but that's just a side plot the producers insisted on including."

"So?" asked Gilligan.

"So, let's have a good old-fashioned bonfire and be happy and thankful we're back to normal."

"I think that's a marvellous idea," Mrs Howell said. "I'll go change into something more bonfire-y." She pranced back to the Howell hut.

The Skipper and Gilligan set the bonfire alight, and Mary Ann brought over some fruit for everyone to share. They were all quite hungry by this point. Everyone gathered around.

The Skipper suggested everyone sing something, so they spent the next forty-five minutes breaking out into different songs they could think of. The Skipper started a round of _Ghost Riders In The Sky._ Gilligan started singing _Home On The Range _after that, but it upset Mary Ann, so they stopped halfway.

"Oh, don't mind me, everyone. I just had a rare bout of homesickness," she scoffed, wiping her eye. "Sometimes it comes out of nowhere. I don't know why –"

"Okay, okay, Mary Ann, I know a nice song to cheer you up," the Professor said. He started singing _Edelweiss, _which was on one of the Howells' Broadway records. (The Howells were big fans of Rodgers and Hammerstein, something they felt somewhat ashamed of, almost as much as Thurston's fondness for operettas.) Everyone sat astonished by how wonderful a voice the Professor had. All these months on the island, they had never heard him sing alone before. He was certainly untrained, but it was lovely. The others joined in toward the end.

Mrs Howell dabbed her eye with a hankerchief. "That was beautiful, dear Professor. What a shame you never sang for us before. You should do it more."

"Oh, that's quite alright," he said, blushing. "I'm too shy, usually."

Mary Ann didn't say anything because she was so choked up, but she did lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

-o0o-

After a while, they had finally relaxed and were joking around. Ginger's stupid movie plot worked, strangely. And Gilligan was a surprisingly decent spoons player, so they had some percussion accompaniment to their singing.

"Well, I'm simply exhausted," Mrs Howell droned. "I'm off to bed. Goodnight."

"I'm tired, too," added her husband. One by one the rest decided to go to bed as well, leaving the Professor and Mary Ann alone by the fire to watch it burn out. Ginger left last, winking at Mary Ann on her way back. "Remember what I said," she whispered.

"What was that all about?" the Professor chuckled. "Are you two friends now? Perish the thought!"

"We had a talk tonight," Mary Ann replied. "She does have touches here and there of a conscience, although it's rare."

The Professor put his elbows on his knees and thoughtfully steepled his fingers under his chin. Mary Ann glanced over at him.

"Well, I can say now that I don't give men enough credit for walking upright properly," she quipped, trying to break the tension between them. The Professor burst out laughing.

"They say you never know a man until you've walked a mile in their shoes, but it certainly applies to women in skimmers and a gingham dress, too."

"You know, despite the adventure we had, it's really nice out tonight." He nodded, that faraway look still on his face. She wondered what was on his mind. Obviously tonight it wasn't a midnight stroll. Something was upsetting him. She could read it on his face.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Mary Ann, do you think I'm crazy – you know, for doing experiments on the island?"

Mary Ann stamped a stray bonfire ash with her foot. "Of course not."

"It's just that…sometimes I'm afraid our isolation could one day lead me to madness. In flashes, I could see the darkest part of myself in Doctor Balinkoff. When Mr Howell and I examined the castle grounds, all I could feel was jealousy for the doctor's vast resources and wealth that allowed him to do the kind of research he wanted to do. And it frightened me."

Mary Ann put her hand on his arm reassuringly. "Professor, there is a major difference between the work you do here and what he does there. He might have all the resources in the world at his feet, but he chooses to waste them on silly experiments that do nothing for humanity."

The Professor ran his hands over his face. "I wonder sometimes if I'm making a difference being an egghead, or if I could be more useful doing more manual labor."

"You just keep on doing what you're doing. Each of us has a role suited to us best, even Ginger and the Howells. I think." They chuckled at that sentiment. "I mean….if it weren't for you, we would have all died from that volcano, or been headhunter victims, or eaten poisoned mushrooms!"

You devote all of your time into making life here more bearable for all of us. And you do it all with what you know and what you find here. You might both be scientists, but you're the only one who contributes to a good cause. If it weren't for you, I'd still be washing our laundry in the little creek. You've made life here as civilized as it could be. You've given us the gift of relative comfort, even if the others don't always acknowledge it."

"Thank you," he replied. "That means more to me than you can imagine."

"We should probably hit the hay," she said, yawning. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah," he replied softly.

The Professor got up and poured the bucket of water over the smouldering campfire. Ever the Scoutmaster, he stamped it to make sure it was completely out.

"Goodnight, Professor," she said. "I loved your song."

-o0o-

Mary Ann walked into her hut. Ginger was in bed, but clearly not asleep.

"So?" she asked. "Did you kiss?"

Mary Ann laughed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy. Did he make a move on you?" Ginger almost sounded like a giddy schoolgirl, and Mary Ann still didn't know how to process this.

"I mean it, Mary Ann. I'm not jealous anymore. I want you and the Professor to be happy. I learned a lot tonight that I shouldn't take things for granted, like my looks. Not everyone is as fortunate as I am."

"Goodnight, Ginger."


	19. Chapter 19

"Professor, I'm stuck! Hey, Professor!"

The Professor and Gilligan were on another part of the island, currently delivering ransom money to a hollow log in order to retrieve Mrs Howell. An intruder had landed, and had kidnapped the heiress. Gilligan had stuck his head in the log to make sure the money was far enough inside, and ended up getting stuck. After some struggle, Gilligan lifted the log and tried to get out, but instead he vaulted the log against a rock and got lifted into the air.

"Professor, how am I gonna get out of this?" he wailed from inside the trunk, flailing around upside down.

"Well, I think it'll take a tree surgeon," replied the Professor, with his hands on his hips.

He shook his head and pulled the tree stump back to the ground. Fortunately, it wasn't terribly dense, and the wood was old and crumbly. After an initial struggle, Gilligan came out of the log after the Professor was able to chip away the sides with a sharp rock.

"Now, please be more careful from now on," the Professor whispered. "We don't want the kidnapper to overwhelm us."

They returned to camp and Mary Ann came rushing over. She handed the Professor a note. "Ginger found this by the clothesline," she said. "What happened to you, Gilligan?" The man in question was covered in old tree sap residue and moss.

"Don't ask," Gilligan shrugged. "I'm hungry. Delivering ransom notes is hard work. What's to eat?"

"Oh, there's papaya over on the side table," Mary Ann replied, distracted by concern. How could Gilligan be so blasé about everything except food? She turned to the Professor. "I'm frightened," she said. "Any one of us could be next. He could be dangerous."

The Skipper and Mr Howell rushed to the scene. "Ohhhh, my Lovey!" Mr Howell wailed. "The dreadfulness of it all! My brave, brave wife!" he wrung his handkerchief in despair.

"We'll find her," the Skipper said. "Let's go, men."

-o0o-

They freed Mrs Howell and listened to her harrowing tale. As Mrs Howell described her ordeal, the Professor suddenly wondered if it were wise for all of the men to have rushed away from camp. His worst fear came true minutes later, when Ginger came running up the path.

"She's gone! She's gone! Mary Ann's been kidnapped!" Ginger handed the Professor a note. He felt his stomach drop as he looked over the words. Mrs Howell seemed indignant that Mary Ann had copied her abduction, but the Professor ignored her as his eyes ran over the ransom scrawled on the paper.

_I've kidnapped the pretty brunette. If you want to see her alive, have the rich dame and her husband bring $20K to the statue of the old native god at the south end of the island. Place the money in the mouth of the idol. And no tricks if you want to see the girl again._

After some deliberation over the cost, the Howells agreed to front the money. They ran back to fetch it and change into their safari clothes – after all, they were going to have to walk through the "nasty old jungle," as Mrs Howell succinctly put it.

Mary Ann was returned two hours later. The Professor and the Skipper found her bound and gagged on the rock near the berry glade.

"Oh, Mary Ann," the Professor said, untying her gag. The Skipper freed her hands.

"Sweetheart, did he hurt you?" the Skipper asked. "You weren't…"

"No, nothing like that," she replied. Once her arms were free she threw them around the Skipper and the Professor, kissing them both, trying not to cry. She was trembling like a baby deer and clung to the Professor on the rock.

"It was horrible. I was hogtied and thrown on a pile of leaves, then he made me drink yukka berry juice to knock me out. He told me he'd kill me if I made a sound. I tried to kick him to the ground when he had his back turned, but I was too weak by then."

"Do you know where he might have taken you?" the Professor asked, gently releasing her and checking for bruises. She had a nasty rope burn on one wrist, but didn't seem otherwise hurt.

"I was definitely in a cave," she replied, still clutching his arm, "but I was so disoriented, I couldn't tell which one. I could hear an echo and it was cool in there, so it must have been one of the larger ones, but after he drugged me with those yukka berries I must have been carried to the spot where you found me."

The Professor softly touched her cheek. "You were very brave, my dear."

The Skipper patted her shoulder. "It may have been the cave we found when the headhunters were coming to the island. You say it was a big cave? Enough for seven people?"

"I think so," Mary Ann said. "Like I said, I could feel a draft. Oh, it was so cold in there!"

"Do you need a blanket?" the Professor asked. She shook her head. The shock was beginning to wear off and she was calming down.

"Thank you for getting me," she said to the men.

"Are you okay to walk?" the Skipper asked. Mary Ann nodded. "I'm fine now. The berry juice is mostly worn off. Thank you. I just want to forget this ever happened. But I need to get back to the Howells and thank them for what they did for me." She tore off toward the Howells' hut to do just that.

Almost immediately afterward, Gilligan and Mary Ann were asked to deliver the money for her return – a much more princely sum, Mary Ann noted. The same thing happened, and Ginger was returned an hour afterward. Mary Ann ran outside with Gilligan. The Professor was waiting at the table. She showed him the note.

"Alright, you two be careful," he said. "I'll be watching from the lookout in camouflage to make sure you aren't hurt. Do exactly as the note says and get back to camp as soon as you can."

Gilligan and Mary Ann dropped off the note with no problems, and headed back up the path. The Professor joined them.

"Did you see anything?" Gilligan whispered.

"Not a thing," replied the Professor, shrugging the makeshift leaf covering off of his shoulders. "But there is a distinct pattern emerging, and we need to have a meeting, immediately."

-o0o-

The Castaways all sat at the table, discussing what had happened to each of them. Ginger, of course, had been treated exactly as Mary Ann and Mrs Howell had been, but she told a much more embellished story to make it sound like she had suffered the most. The Professor rolled his eyes a bit at the story. He could tell where it was going.

"And all the while he had this crazy laugh. Heh heh heh heh heh," Ginger said, doing a strange impression of the kidnapper.

Mrs Howell and Mary Ann said they didn't get a laugh, and Ginger admitted she threw that in there for dramatic effect. She mentioned that the kidnapper DID threaten to abduct everyone else. The Professor came up with a plan to trap him.

The trap ended up getting Gilligan instead, but the Skipper managed to capture the kidnapper on his own. He got put into the headhunter cage and the others talked to him.

-o0o-

Mary Ann was taking a load of lobsters to the table to be cleaned and prepared for the night's dinner. She passed the cage on her way to the prep table.

"Girlie! Hey, girlie!" The kidnapper leered at her from the cage.

"My name is Mary Ann, thank you," she replied coldly.

"I…I wanted to apologize for earlier."

"It won't do you any good. I'm not letting you out."

"I can tell you're the hardest worker here," he continued, not to be swayed. "No one appreciates anything you do on this island. Except him, over there." He pointed to the Professor, who was working on the motor. "I can see him watching you when you don't think he is. I think he's sweet on ya."

Mary Ann's face betrayed her feelings. She felt it going deep red, and she was angry with herself for listening to him.

"I have to get these finished tonight," she said, trying to sidestep the conversation. The kidnapper smiled.

"Suit yourself. But I think you two would make a great team, you and Egghead. You're sweet on him, too, ain't ya?"

"Leave me alone, please."

"I had a girlfriend once, she reminded me a lot of you. Her name was…uh…Loretta. Short, brunette, pretty, smart as a whip. That man is lucky to have a girl like you in his life. I took my girl for granted and she ran off with Lucky McGee, the pool shark. She got shot. She died in my arms."

"Shot!" Mary Ann's eyes went wide. The kidnapper took off his hat and held it against his heart. He brushed a crocodile tear from his eye.

"She died in my arms, and told me she regretted ever leaving me for that Mafioso."

"Good grief," Mary Ann said. "I'm terribly sorry to hear this."

"It would break my heart all over again. Go tell him how ya feel, girlie. Make it all right in the end. He deserves your love and you deserve his. Don't let my tragedy happen to you."

Mary Ann shook her head. She felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Perhaps he did have a bad break in his life. Maybe resorting to kidnapping was the only thing he had left after all that had happened to him. She would talk to the Professor later. Oh, she hated the idea of prisons. Maybe it would be alright to let him out of the cage. What would be the point of keeping him imprisoned on an unchartered island? After all, they were already in a virtual jail.

She reasoned that if they were all in the same unfortunate situation waiting for rescue, perhaps they could persuade the kidnapper that escape came with safety in numbers, or they could all live peacefully for the time being. If they angered him, what would convince the man that they would be worthy of taking along? And what would be the point of having all that money if it meant nothing?

She tried reasoning with herself about the man's situation as she finished the washing-up.

The Professor shouted over to her. "Mary Ann, could you please help me with this propeller? I could use an extra hand on it, and the Skipper and Gilligan are talking with the kidnapper."

He asked her to stand by with the oil can as they began working on the motor. The Professor was thinking about the possibility of their returning to civilization again, and he was getting increasingly sad about it. The motor for the boat was actually salvageable; the reality of return very good indeed. He looked down at Mary Ann, a lump forming in his throat. By this time next week, they could be hundreds of miles apart.

Mary Ann, too, was feeling the lump in her own throat.

"So our prospects of return are good?" she asked.

"Most excellent," he replied.

"Professor, I don't…"

She was interrupted by a tinkly voice from around the corner.

"I just talked to the kidnapper." It was Ginger, wearing a scarf around her head. "I am beginning to regret this imprisonment. He's not too bad." The Skipper and Gilligan were right behind her.

The Skipper agreed with Ginger's assessment. Mary Ann was not feeling much else other than sadness - of the kidnapper's tragedy, of leaving the Professor's side, of returning to Kansas - and she gently wiped her nose.

Ginger asked the Professor to let her try a trick she had learned in one of her films. She was convinced that the role she played would bring him around and reform him. She would just need a lab coat and Mrs Howell's spectacles again to "get in the mood." The Professor seemed reluctant to let Mr Wiley free, but he rolled his eyes and said sure.

Ginger's makeshift therapy session seemed to do some good, she thought. She came back to the Skipper's hut to relate her breakthrough with the Professor and Mary Ann, who were taking a break from the motor repair. The Professor realized that he probably shouldn't have let Ginger method act as a psychiatrist – she clearly had no idea what she was talking about, and seemed to be spouting mumbo jumbo straight out of one of her scripts.

_I have a master's in psychology, for goodness sakes,_ he thought. _I should have done this myself. _

"…besides, he thinks we're both beautiful," Ginger said, winking at Mary Ann, who was behind the Professor.

"But Ginger, I don't believe – " the Professor protested, but Mary Ann took him gently by the arm and back. He turned to face her.

"Oh, but Professor, she's right. We have to help him help himself."

"But you see, girls, I really –"

"Professor!" Ginger whined. "Do it for me?"

Mary Ann spun him toward her once more. "And for me," she said. He looked in her eyes and changed his mind.

"Alright, alright, I'll let him out," the Professor relented. The Skipper and Gilligan finished fixing the motor, until Gilligan created another disaster.

"Let's go let him out, Professor," Ginger urged.

"Let who out?" Mr Howell thundered, coming around the corner with a mai tai. "That cretin?"

"Yes," Ginger replied.

"Hmm," Mrs Howell said, twirling her parasol, "One would think the best way to re-enter that criminal into society would be to throw a party in his honor." Mary Ann agreed and set out to pick fruits and flowers for decoration. She wanted to do something nice for the poor man. She felt awful about his treatment.

Ginger followed the Professor to the cage, and they let out Mr Wiley. She took the Professor's arm after he unlocked the cage.

"Let's get ready for the party," she said. When they had gotten out of earshot, she dragged the reluctant Professor over behind a tree.

"Ginger, I'm not interested in you, " the Professor said, fearing the worst. Ginger shook her head.

"No, no, Professor, you got it all wrong. I have something to tell you. I think Mary Ann has a crush on you," she said. "And I think it's cute."

The Professor pretended to brush off an imaginary bug from his shirt. He didn't understand what Ginger was getting at.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied. "Mary Ann and I are friends."

"Mmhmm," Ginger purred. "I know that. But I know something you don't know. You'll find out tonight."

The Professor knew this was likely one of Ginger's classic mind games, but part of him was curious. He looked off to the side and asked her what she was getting at.

"It's simple," Ginger replied. "You're a boy, and she's a girl, and…well, you're a biology teacher." She shrugged her shoulders. "Think about it, Professor. Oh, and wear your sport coat. OH. And…Mary Ann likes those pretty yellow flowers near the lagoon. Crazy about them. I think you should give her one. Come by the hut at 7." She sauntered back toward her hut, a triumphant smile on her face. The Professor scratched his head. That woman was strange, indeed.

-o0o-

"You're just going to wear that to the party?" Ginger asked Mary Ann, in a disapproving tone, a few hours later. Mary Ann had spent an hour decorating the common table. The Professor had worked out a small motor for the turntable and made a makeshift Victrola for the Howells' cha-cha record.

"What's wrong with my gingham dress?" Mary Ann pouted.

"You look like a little girl," Ginger said. "I think it's high time you look like a grown woman."

"Oh come on. It's just us, Ginger. I'm certainly not interested in Mr Wiley. Although he deserves friends. I'll be nice to him."

"Ho-hum. I'm not talking about him," Ginger yawned. "Wear that red dress with the frilly sleeves. It's darling."

Mary Ann looked at Ginger quizzically. What was she getting at?

"Besides, I think the Professor likes red," Ginger continued. "What time is it?"

"About 6:00," Mary Ann replied. "Why?"

"Oh, you have to get dressed!" Ginger replied. "I'll do your hair. You should try a new style."

"Do you know one that'll make me feel taller?" Mary Ann joked. Ginger handed her her red dress and Mary Ann changed behind the screen.

"I'll give you a makeover," Ginger said. "Just sit tight."

Ginger really had a knack for making Mary Ann look nice. She piled her hair on her head in a becoming updo, put some of the Professor's handmade cosmetics on Mary Ann's skin, and did her eyes up beautifully. She spritzed some of her most expensive perfume on Mary Ann – it smelled different on her than it did Ginger – it was sure to drive the Professor wild. Mary Ann looked elegant and sophisticated when Ginger was through. Ginger stood back and smiled at her handiwork.

"I'm surprised, Mary Ann, when the effort is made, you really are quite pretty," Ginger said. Mary Ann laughed – it was a classic Ginger backhanded compliment, but she could take what she could get. Ginger glanced at the table clock. Almost 7. There was a knock on the door. Ginger jumped up to answer it.

"Oh, hello, Professor, what a surprise. Mary Ann has been expecting you," Ginger smiled, showing him in.

"I have?" Mary Ann replied, spinning around quickly and standing. The Professor's breath caught as he took in the lovely vision in front of him. Mary Ann was always beautiful, but with Ginger's expertise and her new poise, she was absolutely radiant.

He walked up to her nervously. "I…this is for you," he said, handing her the yellow flower.

"Put it in her hair!" Ginger exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Oh, look how pretty it would be with that flower print dress!" The Professor smiled and clipped it in place with one of the bobby pins. The effect was charming.

"I must get dressed!" Ginger said. You two go have fun!" The Professor offered his arm to Mary Ann as they walked out of the hut, both completely confused.

The Professor and Mary Ann walked down to the Skipper's hut, where they found the Skipper and Gilligan eating the fare Mary Ann had set out. The Skipper smiled when he saw them approach. Gilligan glanced up and popped a berry in his mouth. _Mary Ann sure looks great,_ he thought. _I wonder if I can get her to make me a pie if I dance with her. I really could use some pie. _

The Howells and Mr Wiley joined the party. Wiley sat at the table and the Howells began dancing to the cha-cha record.

"Well, don't let us be the only dancers at the party!" Mrs Howell yelled. "Dance with us!"

The Professor took Mary Ann in his arms and they joined in. Suddenly, everything else melted away.

"You look so beautiful tonight, my dear," the Professor said. "There's something very different about you."

"Oh, that's Ginger's doing," she replied, a little flummoxed by the attention. Suddenly she was very aware of the proximity of his body near hers. Waist, shoulder, clasped hand. "I…I wanted to look pretty."

"You always do," he said softly. Mary Ann smiled as he pulled her closer toward him, as close as they dared with watching eyes and their own self-consciousness.

Ginger sat with Wiley, the Skipper and Gilligan at the table. She put a lei around his neck and talked with him. The Howells, Professor and Mary Ann continued dancing to the record.

"Professor, you won't mind if I dance once with Mr Wiley? I think I should, just to be nice. He's had a hard time." She relayed the story to the Professor, who gained a bit of sympathy for the poor devil.

"Of course, dear," he replied. "I can take the time to sample some of your lobster salad."

They walked over to the table. Gilligan stood up, hat in his hands, and asked Mary Ann if she would like to dance. She politely declined and said she had promised a dance with Mr Wiley. The Professor eyed Gilligan suspiciously. He'd never expressed an interest in Mary Ann before. He felt a twinge of jealousy, but decided to ignore it. Mary Ann gently asked Mr Wiley if he would like to dance with her. It lasted all of three seconds – he changed partners with Mr Howell almost immediately.

Mr Howell escorted Mary Ann back to the table, where she joined the Professor, the Skipper, and Gilligan.

"Do you still want to dance?" Mary Ann asked Gilligan.

"Nah, I really just wanted to see if you'd make me a pie," he replied honestly.

"Oh, why didn't you just come out and say so?"

"I didn't wanna be a creep."

Mary Ann shrugged her shoulders. The Professor handed her a serving of lobster salad, declaring it one of her best ever. She beamed with pride at her handiwork.

After a little break, the Professor asked if she would like to dance again. They got up and resumed their cha-cha.

"Mary Ann," he whispered. Unable to say much more, he pulled her a little closer. Her scent was intoxicating. If he didn't know any better, he would almost blame pheromonal attraction, not dissimilar to studies of the _bombykol_ release of the female silkworm. It was taking all his willpower not to kiss her senseless in front of the others. She smiled back at him sweetly.

"I'm so happy dancing with you, Professor," she said. To be the source of that happiness made the Professor's heart want to burst. "

Suddenly the Skipper called everyone to the table for a toast. Mary Ann took the Professor's arm and they sat at the table. Wiley gave a lovely speech of gratitude to the Castaways, then took off.

They all realized one by one that Wiley had taken personal items, and they chased after him. He'd left by then, to their dismay. It was then that Ginger remembered the rest of her movie plot.

They all walked back to the camp, their night ruined…except for two people. Mary Ann and the Professor lingered behind the others and walked more slowly.

"Are you disappointed?" he asked.

"In him, yes," she replied. "But not so much in general. Are you okay?" she asked, touching his arm.

"Yes, I am."

They got to her door. Silence.

"Professor," she whispered, not wanting Ginger to overhear. "I had a lovely time with you tonight. I'm sorry that things ended so abruptly."

"I am, too." He looked at her longingly. "But I'd…like to do it again sometime." He loosened his collar. "…If I may."

"I'd like that," she said, cautiously, unsure of what to do next. Her heart was pounding. The Professor suddenly took her hand and kissed it like Cary Grant would, staring in her eyes the whole time, gauging her reaction. It was a broad smile.

"Professor," she whispered, stepping toward him, putting her hands on his chest. Their eyes met. He dipped down and kissed her on the lips tenderly: nothing passionate, nothing electrifying, but sweet and kind and loving, exactly how Mary Ann dreamt it would be. Mary Ann wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with equal tenderness.

They stepped back from each other, completely dazed and a little frightened by what had happened.

"I…had better say goodnight, Mary Ann," he stammered.

"Goodnight," she said, feeling her entire body quake.


	20. Chapter 20

They weren't given much time to reflect upon what happened. A storm swept through the island early the next morning, waking everyone with a giant crash. A branch had fallen through the Skipper's hut, just narrowly missing Gilligan. The hole in the roof caused them to run over to hunker with the Howells. The Professor's hut had some damage, as well, and he joined them a few minutes later.

Luckily no one was seriously hurt, and the damage to the huts was minimal. The Professor would have to spend the afternoon re-thatching. Everyone's clothes needed washing, as well. Ginger offered to help with the laundry of her own volition for the first time in months.

"I can't carry the baskets," she said, "but I can run the wash cycle."

"Fine," Mary Ann said. "That's great. I appreciate it, Ginger."

The Professor peered down at Mary Ann from the ladder. They shared a secret smile, and kept right on working. Gilligan saw them making eyes at each other, and realized something was probably afoot. He'd ask Mary Ann about it later. Both she and the Professor had so many things they wanted to say, and discuss, and do - but now was certainly not the time.

"Gilligan, give Mary Ann a hand with that laundry," the Skipper commanded, after Gilligan attempted to help the Professor several times – unsuccessfully. "The Professor is the only one of us who knows how to do this properly. Take the basket down to the lagoon so our clothes can dry."

"Aye-aye," Gilligan said, saluting. "Come on, Mary Ann."

They walked up the path, carrying the basket. "So, what's going on with you and the Professor?" Gilligan asked, in his blunt way. "I saw you two. Spill it."

Mary Ann sighed. "Saw us what?"

"Making goo-goo eyes. Last time I saw two people look at each other like that it was Susie Finnegan and Lester McMurray just before the matinee at the Roxy. It was _Godzilla and the Thunder Princess. _Ginger was in that, come to think of it."

Mary Ann tried to change the subject. "This basket's heavy," she grumbled. Gilligan broke into a wide grin.

"I'm right! I knew it!" he did a little skip. "Oh boy, oh boy. You two are gonna get married, and maybe have some kids, and eventually there'll be enough people for a whole baseball team on the island."

"Oh, be quiet, Gilligan," Mary Ann said, frowning. "It's none of your business."

"Sure it is," he said. "I need new people to talk to and read comic books to and teach how to play catch, and swing on vines with. So hurry it up already."

Mary Ann shook her head as they got to the lagoon. "Look, Gilligan, we have to take down the dry wash and hang up the wet wash and – " She gasped, seeing her hard work all laying amok on the sandy beach. "GILLIGAN, LOOK!" Rage bubbled up as she examined the damage. She realized her knots holding up the rope must have slipped. So much for Girl Scout training! Gilligan made a crack and started helping her with the rope. As he tied it to the tree, explaining the kinds of knots that worked best for that type of line – but suddenly, Mary Ann felt the ground falling beneath her.

And then nothing.

She woke up some time later, sore all over and unsure of where she was. It was dark and cool. There was no light source anywhere except for a crack above her head from the trap door. She must have fallen into a cave. But what cave would have a door?

She remembered she had a pack of matches in her back pocket. She lit them and saw she was in a pit of some sort. She had dropped nearly fifteen feet, but the brush broke her fall. There was no means of escape. The match went out. She had about ten more, so she was going to have to be careful. She picked up a piece of brush to make a makeshift torch. In the dim light, she could make out a lantern in the wall just within reach.

"That's strange," she thought. "This isn't one of ours."

She grabbed it and examined the markings. They were in Japanese. She remembered that old sailor who had been on the island before, and realized this must have been where he lived. She lit the lantern and examined the pit. It wasn't terrible, actually. It was dry and comfortable and near fresh water; the only problem was that the ladder must have been taken up years ago. The pit had two rooms. The other room had a stream of fresh water running through it. She took a long drink.

_This could be pretty cozy, _she thought, wiping her mouth. She looked around to see if she could find anything to coax the doors down. She located an old fishing net, but it was so dry-rotted that it wouldn't serve as a rope. She heard voices up ahead.

"DOWN HERE!" she shouted. "DOWN HERE!"

Minutes later, Ginger plopped down onto the brush near her. "OH!" she cried. "Mary Ann! You're okay!" Mary Ann helped her to her feet and the two women hugged. "I'm so glad you're alright," Ginger said. "We've been worried sick about you for the past three hours."

The women tried shouting for help again, but the men must have run back to camp.

"Well, we're stuck," Mary Ann said. "There's no way you and I can get out like this."

Ginger sat on the ground against the wall, drawing doodles in the sand. "No," she said. "I wish I had thought to eat some lunch before going out searching."

Mary Ann laughed. "I haven't got much to offer, sadly."

"Well. Now that we're alone, I want to hear all about it." Ginger smiled at Mary Ann.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mary Ann said, a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes you do, and I think I deserve a thank you for what I did." Ginger folded her arms in triumph. "After all, I was the one who told him to treat you like you were on a date. And bring you a flower."

Mary Ann sat next to her. "You did that for me?"

Ginger nodded. "I did. And he followed my instructions to the letter. So did he kiss you this time?"

Mary Ann nodded, smiling. Ginger clapped her hands. "Ohhh, goodie! I hope you had a much better time kissing him than I ever have."

Mary Ann blushed. She knew all about Ginger's kissing escapades, but from what she could tell, she never experienced anything like the electric shock that coursed through her last night.

"Well, let's talk about it," Ginger said. "He likes you, right? And you clearly like him. It's simple, really. We need to get you two dancing together again. Or plan something romantic."

"Oh, Ginger, I don't want to get ahead of myself. This is all so very new to either of us."

"Not really," the movie star replied, examining her nails. "You two have been the best of friends since we landed here. And you know each other pretty well. That's half the battle. The rest is just fun. The Professor always knew that I wasn't the brightest bulb in the box – no, it's true and you know it – and I don't think I'm the kind of woman who really sets him afire. Clearly, for whatever reason, he prefers…you…so enjoy it, honey."

Mary Ann chuckled. Ginger's comments no longer got on her nerves. It was just her weird way. She was glad things were better between them. It had taken a long time, but now she was beginning to understand Ginger's idiosyncrasies better.

"Speaking of, I know about your…interlude…with the Skipper."

Ginger sat up with a start, almost in alarm.

"Oh, well, that was just a bit of fun," she said. "The Skipper is a sweetheart and we were drunk."

"Have you ever considered him as a potential…husband?" Mary Ann asked, earnestly.

Ginger chewed on her thumbnail for a second. "Husband, I don't know. Perhaps." She smiled to herself. "Maybe if things keep going the way they have been."

"You mean it wasn't a one-time thing between you?" Mary Ann's jaw dropped.

"No," Ginger confessed. "Alright, I'll come clean. We – we've been secretly seeing each other. Those trips to fetch firewood, gathering berries. No one else knows, and I want it to stay that way. I mean, eventually everyone will put two and two together and realize we've been doing more work than usual, but for now I want to keep it between us. And I suppose you now."

Mary Ann was genuinely shocked. She gave Ginger a hug. "I'm really glad. He adores you." Ginger smiled.

"Well. You know me. I like to be fussed over. He does treat me better than any other man I've dated."

They heard voices again in the vicinity. Mary Ann and Ginger leapt up and tried yelling for help, but to no avail. Mrs Howell soon fell in.

"OHHH!" she landed on Mary Ann, breaking her fall. Luckily, Mary Ann wasn't hurt terribly, but she was going to have some awful bruises the next day.

"Mrs Howell!" Ginger shouted. "What's happening out there?"

"Oh, it's perfectly beastly. There are headhunters on the island and they took you."

"There's no headhunters, Mrs Howell," Mary Ann replied, rubbing her thigh. "This is some sort of hideout."

"Well, how silly of you girls," the heiress replied. "Having a hideout while we're worried sick. And no ladder out of here. Your games are awfully silly."

Ginger explained what happened. Finally, Mrs Howell understood. The three women shouted and shouted for help, but to no avail. Ginger walked to the end of the pit. "I feel claustrophobic!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I don't want to sit on that dingy ground. What pit doesn't have a chair?" whined Mrs Howell.

The light overhead started getting dim. Mary Ann realized, with despair, that it was likely they would be spending the night in that pit.

"Hunker down, ladies, I think we're in for a long evening."

-o0o-

The Professor couldn't sleep. He was worried sick about the women – particularly Mary Ann. He kept running scenarios over and over in his mind. They had ruled out headhunters, of course. He had been trying to keep a cool head all day for the others, but paranoia had struck and he was concerned that one of the men might have succumbed to island madness.

_But who? The Skipper? That teddy bear couldn't hurt a pigeon. Mr Howell? The most likely suspect. It's certainly not me. Gilligan is weird, but I think out of all of us he'd be the least susceptible to madness. And Mrs Howell has been known to bouts of jealousy of the other girls. I could see them working in tandem. There has to be a way to isolate one of them to see if I can get any clues._

He wrote down everything they knew. Something about that clothesline stuck in his head. Mary Ann was hanging laundry. Ginger and Mrs Howell were in the vicinity as well. He thought about going down there to check himself, but he feared that if he went alone and something happened, no one would know until the next day. The other possibility in his mind was quicksand or a mud pit, and if that were the case – he didn't want to think of that. No, he had to go by the assumption that they were alright somehow. The alternative was unthinkable.

Howell was his chief suspect, so to rule him out as a potential fiend, he decided to bring him along.

Waking him up almost confirmed his suspicions that he was a fiend.

"HOW DARE YOU, THUG!" Mr Howell thundered, bashing the Professor over the head with his teddy bear.

"Mr Howell, please, I need you to come with me. I have a theory about what happened to the women," the Professor said, "and I need a witness with me."

"How do I know that you aren't about to abduct me?"

"You don't. That's just it. But I don't know that you aren't about to kill me." He pointed at the teddy bear.

"Right you are. Let's go find my Lovey."

The two men got to the clothesline area.

"There, Mr Howell, look. The laundry, just where Mary Ann left it."

"Well, I saw it before. How DARE you drag me out of my bed to show me wet wash again?"

"Well, I had to bring somebody along. I may have to prove my theory!"

"THEORY? What theory? Do you know what he's talking about, Teddy?" He brought the bear up to his face and kissed it on the nose. The Professor was beginning to wonder if Mr Howell really HAD cracked up.

"It's very simple," the Professor began. "Each one of us has crossed this area today: Mary Ann, Ginger, and your wife included!"

"Just another patch of crabgrass in this TACKY JUNGLE!" Howell retorted.

The Professor insisted that there was something in common with all the disappearances that day, and it had to do with that very spot. Finally, he turned around and insisted they inspect the area.

"What are we looking for?" Mr Howell insisted.

"Well, I'm not sure, but I'll let you know when I've found it."

The ground immediately gave way under their feet.

-o0o-

"THURSTON! MY ANGEL!" Mrs Howell cried. Mr Howell had landed on the brush Mary Ann placed under the door and was unhurt, but the Professor had hit the side of his head on the ground when he landed and was currently unconscious.

"Oh, Lovey, darling, you're safe!" Mr Howell cried, embracing his wife.

"Relatively speaking, yes," she replied. "Oh, Thurston, this dusty pit is so dreadful. How brave of you to save me. But how are we to get out of here?"

Mary Ann ran over to the Professor and elevated his head, cradling it gently in her lap. He wasn't hurt too badly– it didn't seem to be a serious injury; there was no blood or swelling, but he'd had the wind knocked out of him. She rubbed his temples gently.

He came to a minute or two later.

"Mary Ann? Is that you? Goodness me. Am I dead?" he moaned.

"No, and neither am I," she replied. "We are in some kind of underground pit. There's a trap door up there that operates on a spring. We can't open it from in here."

The Professor sat up slowly and looked around, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. "Mrs Howell! Ginger! You're okay, too! Oh- owww!" He had a terrible headache coming on. "My head…" he whispered. "Likely a mild concussion." The others gathered around.

"Lay back down, Professor," Mary Ann said gently. "You know perfectly well you need to rest. I don't have any ice or aspirin here, of course, but I'm going to go through all the steps that I can in this situation."

She asked him questions she knew he could answer: his full name, his parents' names, his date of birth, etc. He answered everything correctly, and seemed fairly alert, just sore.

"The Professor is a Capricorn?" Ginger giggled. "They go well with Virgos, Mary Ann."

"Be quiet, Ginger," Mary Ann replied. She looked down at the Professor. "I think you're going to be okay. Mrs Howell, I am going to need your scarf for a cold compress." Mrs Howell complied without question. "Ginger, soak it in the water in the stream in the other room." Mary Ann barked orders like a drill sergeant. The Professor lay dazed, still in pain.

Ginger returned with the damp, cool scarf as Mary Ann applied it to the Professor's head. He looked up at her and smiled.

"You're a good nurse," he whispered, drifting off.

"I had first aid training in Girl Scouts and the military training we did a few months back also helped."

"Remember to keep waking me every so often."

"We should try getting some sleep," Ginger said. "There's no way the Skipper and Gilligan are going to know the Professor and Mr Howell are missing until tomorrow. Let's pile up some of that brush over there to make some pillows." She and the Howells did this. Ginger walked over to Mary Ann and the Professor.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"I'll be fine. I have to wake him up every so often. You all should get your rest," Mary Ann replied. Ginger smiled and joined the Howells in the other room.

Mary Ann cradled the Professor against her as he slept. Her foot was falling asleep, so she shifted slightly, taking care not to injure him any further. He lay in her lap like a child. A half hour later she gently shook him.

"Professor," she said. "Can you wake up?"

"Yes," he whispered.

Relief flooded over her. He was responsive to her questions once again; he was going to be fine. He lay back down and moaned. "Still sore. Keep talking to me."

"I'm glad you're okay," she said, running her thumbs over his cheeks. "I was so scared you were really injured. I think by tomorrow you'll be up and at 'em like usual, though."

He smiled up at her. "I might be an egghead, but I'm tougher than I look," he whispered. "Where is everyone else?"

"In the other room, sleeping."

"Good." He reached up and put his hand against her face. "Oh, my dear, I was so scared of losing you."

"I am tougher than I look, too, Professor," she replied, smiling down at him.

"That you are." He sat up slowly, wanting desperately to kiss her, but the throbbing increased as his blood pressure raised, and he lay back down in her lap.

"You need to get your rest, so we can get out of here. I'll stay with you until morning." Mary Ann whispered. She lightly stroked his hair until she could feel his body relax into sleep once again. The dim light and the drips from the other end of the cave rhythmically put her into a drowsy state, and finally sleep.

-o0o-

The Professor woke the next morning, the pain in his head much better. Although the spot where he had hit it on the ground was still tender, he was fine. He looked up at Mary Ann, her head slumped against the cave wall, sound asleep and lightly snoring. Her hand was draped upon his heart. His shifting woke her.

"You're okay!" she said brightly.

"Yes, thanks to your care, my little Florence Nightingale." He wanted to kiss her before the others woke, but they heard Mary Ann's exclamation and awoke immediately. They ran over and cheered when they saw him alert and okay. Ginger grabbed him in an affectionate, non-creepy bear hug.

"Oh, I am so glad you're alright, dear Professor," Mrs Howell exclaimed.

"Do you have any idea what this place is?" Ginger asked.

"From the looks of it, I'd say this is a Japanese munitions pit. Likely built by our friend who had been living here."

Mary Ann beamed. She had come to the same conclusion on her own. She was getting better at this. The Professor got up groggily and stood on his feet. He was sore from his fall, but he finally felt alert.

They all got drinks of water from the stream in the other room. It had fresh water.

They tried reaching the door. The Professor held Mary Ann on his shoulders, but she was still too short, and the spring seemed to be fairly rusted. She managed to climb down gently, swinging off and landing on her feet. Ginger would never reach it, either. The situation was pretty hopeless.

"The only thing we can do is shout," the Professor said, grimly. "Hold on…I hear someone coming."

Soon afterward, the Skipper also fell into the pit.

After an awful twenty minutes or so, in which Gilligan was unconscious from running into a tree, he saved the day by getting them out with the laundry rope that had started the entire ordeal in the first place. One by one they all came out of the pit, a little shaken, but relatively unscathed.

After some discussion, they all decided that the munitions pit would be a good place to store provisions and use as a possible shelter in the future. It was floodproof and,

thanks to Mary Ann's suggestion, storm proof.

"Once you've lived through seven tornadoes, you know what to look for," she quipped. "In the meantime, it would be a perfect place to dry herbs and store food and water."

That night at dinner, the Castaways praised Gilligan for rescuing them with a lavish lobster dinner. Mary Ann baked Gilligan a massive passion fruit and tuna pie, just for him (no one else would eat it). The Professor added that they should all raise a toast Mary Ann for her practicality and quick thinking.

"If it weren't for your expertise, there's no telling what shape I'd be in," the Professor said, raising his coconut cup to her. "Thank you for taking good care of me, Nurse." The others awwed and they raised their coconuts to Mary Ann as well.

"Oh, that was nothing," she said bashfully. "The real hero is Gilligan."

"HIP HIP HOOORAAAAY!" they shouted.

-o0o-

After dinner, the Skipper and Gilligan made a ladder so no one would get stuck again. Gilligan painted a sign that said "DON'T STAND HERE UNLES YOU ARE AN ENEMA" and posted it next to the laundry line tree.

"Um…little buddy…" the Skipper said, noticing the sign and laughing heartily. "I don't think that's right."

Gilligan shrugged and said he was hungry, leaving to go get a banana. The Skipper took the paints and fixed the A to a Y.

"That kid needs a dictionary," he muttered.

-o0o-

That night, Mary Ann went to visit the Professor at his hut. He was laying on his cot in his pyjamas, with a cold water bottle on his head. He still had a bad headache, and his neck hurt a bit, too.

"Professor?" she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Still a bit sore here and there. But overall, just fine."

"I brought you a treat." She handed him a small bowl of guava and passionfruit topped with coconut cream.

"Thank you," he replied, sitting up. He put the water bottle on the cot and tasted a spoonful. Delicious.

She looked over his head. There was a dark bruise forming, and a bit of a scratch, but he seemed alert and the concussion wasn't very bad at all. He had been lucky. She thought about how bad things could have been if he really had been hurt.

As if he read her mind, he took her hand. "I really am grateful that you took such good care of me," he said. "I'm proud of you."

"I only had the best training. Mrs Richardson of Junior Troop 332 and Professor Hinkley of Senior Troop Minnow."

She dipped down and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Goodnight, Professor," she whispered. He pulled her down once more and kissed her once more on the lips – a gentle, loving kiss, much like the one the night before. He pulled away before he could allow it to deepen, but he kept his hands on her face a moment longer, as if to memorize its softness against his fingers and palms.

"I…I think you'd better go home now," he said, breathing as if he had been running. She closed her eyes and smiled, not entirely sure if she'd been breathing at all the past minute or two. She must have.

"I know," she replied, putting her hands over his as they caressed her. Goodnight, Professor," she repeated, quietly slipping out of the hut and walking briskly down the path to her own, before anyone saw or heard her.


	21. Chapter 21

Mary Ann spent half the night wide-awake, thinking about the Professor's kiss over and over in her mind. A delicious warmth spread over her cheeks and throughout her body as she thought about his sweet, almost innocent caress, and those soft lips touching hers. It was maddening. She wanted more, so much more. She wanted to do things with him that would be considered scandalous in Winfield– she was overcome with the realization that the Professor not only loved her as his friend, but clearly wanted her physically, too.

Mary Ann was not an innocent of the world, at least, not in concept. In practice, she was woefully underprepared. She knew the mechanics of serious relationships well enough from instructional films at school. She had clandestinely read her cousin's salacious dime store pulp books and anything she could find on sex at the library (not much – Winfield was fairly conservative). She'd read _Lady Chatterley's Lover _and she'd seen _From Here To Eternity._ And her cousin Norma had given her rather detailed accounts of her 'petting' experiences with Herb Frye at the drive-in. If Uncle George or Aunt Martha had known, they would have been thoroughly shocked! But…despite Mary Ann's wholesome, homespun exterior, there lurked an insatiable curiosity…and now desire.

Before she'd been shipwrecked, she dreamed of one day being a sophisticated, independent woman of the world – one who _knew_ things, one who considered herself enlightened. Mary Ann's favorite movie growing up was _All About Eve_. She loved the idea of being tough like Bette Davis when she was older: beautiful, feisty, smart, no-nonsense, and adored. She thought Ginger would be like that when they first met, but truthfully Ginger was more honky-tonk than sophisticated.

Still, Mary Ann felt self-conscious about her inexperience. She'd been such a wallflower in high school. As much as she desperately wanted to be asked to proms as a teenager, she never was romanced the way she desperately wanted. The way women were in books.

She remembered the day she left for that trip to Hawaii, joking with Maggie, a fellow store clerk.

"_Who knew those contests were real?" Maggie had said._

"_I'm never coming back!" Mary Ann had declared gleefully. _

The words haunted her, now that they had come true. She wondered what the people of Winfield had done when word got out that she was declared lost at sea. Dead. She imagined the obituary in the paper. Who might have mourned her loss? Who would bother even remembering her? Her family…maybe some of her teachers might have. Did anyone care? Did anyone truly miss her? The only answer she could come up with was, "who even knew me?" They probably used her high school graduation photo, the one with the tipped head and the bad permanent wave and the frilly collar and those glasses she hated so much.

"Class Brain," the school had voted her. Under her photo, the Yearbook editor had written the following:

_Nickname: "Shrimpie." _

_Friendly and petite. _

_Always seen with a book, never a boy. _

She was glad that she was far away from anyone calling her "Shrimpie" for the rest of her life. She once heard Gilligan calling out to actual shrimp and nearly shoved him in the lagoon.

Her thoughts drifted happily back to the Professor. She laughed to herself, realizing that she had never once called him by his real first name, despite all they had been through together. For all intents and purposes, his first name might as well have been "Professor."

Mary Ann had matured quite a bit since then, too. When they arrived on the island, she was in her early 20s and had never been away from Kansas before in her life. And now she was a fully independent woman, mostly in charge of feeding and caring for six other people. She had learned survival and diplomacy skills she never would have needed in Kansas, and she finally felt comfortable in her own skin.

-o0o-

Up the path, the Professor was having his own restless night. Ever the pragmatist, he too weighed the possibilities of marriage. He couldn't just "date" Mary Ann, even if he ever wanted to do that. There was little room for making mistakes on an island with only seven people. And if they were to ever go back to civilization, he worried that she wouldn't want him anymore, once there were other, younger male prospects. He certainly knew that she loved him now, but he worried about what future they might have together.

There was no question that he wanted Mary Ann by his side, no matter what. He knew, after all these years, that their devotion to each other was rare and wonderful. He appreciated her, he treasured his time with her, and he wanted to demonstrate his love for her. He thought about her soft skin, those sweet lips pressed against his, and he wanted more. He thought the ache would go away, but after finally kissing her, it seemed to envelop him.

-o0o-

Distractions for both of them came in the guise of one Eva Grubb, who landed on the island early the next morning, fleeing civilization. She proved herself to be a pain in the neck from the start.

At first, it seemed like a case of Ugly Duckling. Mary Ann could certainly relate, and told the group that she wanted to reach out to her. But something in the Professor's demeanour raised a red flag. He didn't quite trust Eva's mental condition. The Skipper suggested sending a boat back for her when they reached Honolulu. As Mr Howell enthusiastically agreed, Mary Ann caught the Professor's eyes, and she saw distrust in them. As Gilligan chimed in about wanting to make sure this stranger was safe, the Professor finally spoke up.

"Now wait a minute. You'd better not mention any of that to Eva," he said sharply.

"Why not?" Mary Ann replied, trying to understand where he was going with this.

"Well, she's so upset, there's no telling what she might do," he replied. Ginger nodded sympathetically. "Now, remember, not a word to Eva about sending a boat back."

Mary Ann was beginning to understand the situation better. This woman was clearly depressed or mentally unstable or something, to go bounding off alone in that small motorboat in the Pacific Ocean. She might even be suicidal. They would have to be careful.

After the others left, the Professor pulled Mary Ann aside.

"Do you think you and Ginger can take her under her wing?" he asked. "I would feel better if people kept an eye on her. There's no telling what we can expect with her."

"I feel the same way," Mary Ann replied. "We'll try to keep her spirits up. I hope Gilligan doesn't blow our plan."

The Professor shook his head. "We can only hope he keeps quiet. She's a ticking time bomb." He stood there, unsure of what to say next. Finally, he shifted on his feet a bit. "Ehm. Did you sleep well last night?"

Mary Ann smiled, relieved he acknowledged something of last night, finally. "Eventually," she said. "I had a lot on my mind."

"I admit, so did I."

Suddenly Ginger rounded the corner. "Eva put her suitcase in our hut. She's whining about how she wants to be alone, so I left. She's asking for you, Mary Ann."

"Duty calls," Mary Ann replied crisply, marching back to the hut.

-o0o-

Eventually, it came to light that Gilligan HAD told Eva their plans to leave, and she immediately confiscated the sparkplugs. After their confrontation in the boat, the Professor and the Skipper visited with the Howells to work on a plan to talk some reason into Eva. The Howells suggested bribery; something the Professor found risky and, quite frankly, tacky.

Eva, on the other hand, was in the girls' hut, complaining about everything. The floor was too dusty. Ginger wore too much perfume. Mary Ann fussed over cleaning too much. After all these months thinking Ginger was a terrible roommate, Eva proved to be far worse.

Mary Ann attempted to find some point of communication with her, but flatlined every time. With every mention of feeling unwanted or unloved at home in Winfield, Eva waved her hand to dismiss her.

"You're so beautiful it's disgusting," Eva groaned. "Don't tell me about being plain. You don't know what it's like to be lonely!"

"I do so," Mary Ann countered. "But at least I know how to fix it! All you do is drive people away who want to help you. I have no sympathy for that." She stomped out of the hut to go do some laundry.

-o0o-

The Howells' plan failed badly. Eva caught on to Mr Howell's blatant attempts at bribery. Eva returned to the girls' hut, ranting and raving about how shallow the wealthy were. Ginger and Mary Ann looked at each other and shook their heads. They went out to the table to talk over the situation.

"I know one thing's for sure, I do not want to spend another minute with that miserable thing," Mary Ann grumbled.

"She's really awful," Ginger agreed. "She reminds me of one of the manicurists at Republic Pictures. All she did was bellyache."

The Professor caught up with them, looking around to see if Eva was in earshot. When the girls confirmed she wasn't, he asked them to join him for a meeting at the Skipper's hut to come up with a plan of action.

Ginger suggested making Eva feel better about herself by giving her a makeover. The others seemed to think this might work. They left the hut and brainstormed some ideas on how to make the woman feel more attractive, which would give her the confidence to return home and try to make a go of it alone. Ginger suggested a hair color change, so the Professor said he'd make something out of the henna plants on the island. Mary Ann and Ginger agreed to try and fit one of Ginger's outfits to Eva, who seemed to be about the same size.

They didn't realize quite what was about to happen. The resemblance was uncanny. Eva and Ginger looked like long-lost twins, when they were through. At first Mary Ann thought perhaps Ginger had gone overboard with the makeup, but as she looked over Eva's facial features and bone structure, she gasped. They really looked alike.

The Professor had the same reaction when he walked in the door.

"Hi, I thought I'd stop by and check on that henna shampoo I…GOOD HEAVENS. TWO GINGERS!" He was gobsmacked by the change. Eva protested, but the Professor rose to the occasion to try and convince her of the positive change. "Eva, you're beautiful!"

As Eva continued to protest, Ginger took her over to the mirror to look at herself.

"This could be just the thing to make Eva want to go home," the Professor whispered to Mrs Howell and Mary Ann. Eva took a look in the mirror and was as shocked as the rest of them. Ginger said she would prove it to Eva that men would find her irresistible.

The Professor cleared his throat and told Mary Ann he needed some help with something before he would find himself the subject of irresistibility. They managed to slip out without being noticed.

"I need some help with an idea I came up with – if we are lucky, we might be able to use seashells as sparkplugs," he said. "Let's go gather a few clam shells and head over to the Skipper's hut, the toolbox is there."

"Do you really think this scheme will work?" Mary Ann asked.

"I'm not sure, but it's worth a try," the Professor said. "Oh. You mean Eva." They walked to the lagoon and began gathering the necessary items.

"Actually, yes," she said giggling. "But I am having mixed feelings about leaving. We're so close this time, but I'm not as excited as I've been pretending to be."

"I'm glad you mentioned that," he said. "What are you looking forward to when you get back?"

"Well, flush toilets, of course," she laughed. "First and foremost. I do miss stuff like snow and autumn, and going to the supermarket. But I've gotten so used to living like this, that I don't know how I'd react when I got home. We've long been declared dead. Life's gone on without us. It's been three years now, and…"

"I agree," the Professor said. "We don't know what's happened at home. My mother had a bad heart – it's possible she's died and I don't know about it. I've started thinking about everyone in the past tense."

"Let's think positive. What are you looking forward to?"

The Professor thought a few seconds. "I relish the idea of working in a real lab with Pyrex beakers and Bunsen burners and working instruments. When I realize that's primarily what I'm looking forward to, that doesn't say much about my social life, does it?"

"Would it help you on that front if I joined you?"

The Professor walked up to her and, looking around first, dipped down and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Would you, really?" he asked, almost pleadingly. "Still?"

"What do you think?" she replied, smiling coyly. "Come on, we have work to do, Professor." She took his hand in hers and they walked up to the Skipper's hut together, hand in hand. The Professor thought he might actually be floating in that moment. They saw Gilligan and Eva…or was it Ginger?...at the dinner table. Their hands broke apart as they entered the hut and greeted its occupant.

"Hi, Skipper, mind if we borrow the tool box for a few minutes?"

"No problem," he replied. "What are you two working on?"

Mary Ann held up the clam shells.

"Sparkplugs," the Professor said. "Where's Gilligan?"

"We saw him at the table talking to Eva," Mary Ann said. "I think. Unless she changed out of that dress."

They sat at the table, trying to whittle the shells into sparkplug shapes. The task was hopeless. The table was covered in shell fragments, and Mary Ann cut her thumb on a sharp piece. It was a minor cut, but nothing terrible. The Skipper, on the other hand, was highly intrigued by the Professor and Mary Ann's positions. The two were sitting practically in each other's laps.

"I've been meaning to ask," the Skipper said, as the Professor snipped off a piece of shell with the pliers, "What's going on with you two? If I may be so bold."

They both got red and remained silent.

The Skipper knew he had them cornered and started grinning. "I knew it. You don't have to say a word."

"Mary Ann, can you hand me that wrench?" the Professor asked, looking slyly at Mary Ann. Their backs were turned to the Skipper.

"Certainly," she replied briskly.

"It's as plain as day," the Skipper said. "Well, I'm happy for you."

Thankfully, Gilligan burst into the door before anything got more awkward between the three. Apparently Eva had put the moves on the Skipper's Little Buddy.

"Well, I certainly hope she's ready to go home, because it's impossible to convert these seashells into sparkplugs," the Professor grumbled, putting down another shard.

"You don't have to, Professor," Eva said, suddenly appearing in the door. "Here are the sparkplugs. I suddenly realized I can't wait to go home."

Everyone jumped up in glee and hugged each other, then took turns hugging Eva in gratitude.

-o0o-

The Professor and Mary Ann walked back to his hut to discuss what they would bring back with them. They could only take the necessary provisions on that tiny boat. The Professor shut the door behind him, looking around to see if anyone was nearby.

"I meant what I said earlier, Professor," Mary Ann said, taking his hand. "I want to go with you. I know I said it before, but nothing has changed."

He closed the curtain and promptly kissed her. She refused to let this one be bashful or chaste. They gently parted their lips and let their tongues explore each other's mouths, gently at first, then with greater urgency. Mary Ann could hardly believe what was happening; the emotions were so overwhelming. They clutched at each other desperately. _So that's what it feels like. _The glorious sensations inside her felt positively volcanic. Her delighted moan of pleasure urged him on, as their breathing escalated in synchronicity.

"Mary Ann, Mary Ann, Mary Ann." Each name was punctuated with a kiss – one on her neck, one on her earlobe, one on her cheek. He paused for a moment, allowing her to regain her composure.

"Professor," she whispered back.

"Roy," he insisted. "You might as well, at this point."

"Oh Roy," she whimpered, as he kissed her on the neck once more. "I love you."

"I love you," he replied, bringing his kiss back to her lips. "Oh, darling. I love you so very much." They collapsed on his cot, intertwined in each other's arms. After a few minutes, they broke apart, completely dazed, but overjoyed. He lazily, lovingly ran his fingers over her arm as he propped his head on the pillow.

"Dearest Roy," she whispered. "I'm so happy I could probably float to Hawaii on a cloud." She ran her fingers along his cheeks, down the jawline to the tip of his chin. He leaned down and kissed her once more.

"Me too," he said. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment. It's been torture staying silent about it."

"I know," she replied, grinning broadly.

Suddenly, they heard a rustle outside.

"Someone's coming," she said, sitting up. They immediately scrambled to their feet. Mary Ann fixed her hair and adjusted her top. The Professor re-buttoned the top buttons his shirt and smoothed his own hair. Someone knocked on the door and entered. It was Ginger. She took one look at them and grinned.

"Aha," she said, laughing. "You can't fool me, lovebirds. I know what you two were up to. Making out like a couple of crazy teenagers! And alone in a man's bedroom!" She crossed her fingers, shook her head, and made tsk-tsk noises.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Professor protested, trying to keep a straight face. Ginger walked over and wiped off a lipstick mark from his cheek.

"I submit this as Exhibit A. For pete's sake, you two, this is shaping up to be the worst-kept secret on the island. The only people who don't know by now are the Howells. By the way, they told me to tell you they're throwing a party in Eva's honor tonight. We have a lot of work to do, Mary Ann. If I can drag you away from here, that is."

"You? Ready to work?" Mary Ann giggled.

"It's the fastest road to Tinseltown," Ginger replied, with a wink. "Let's get the boat provisions ready. Come on, don't be lazy!"

"I'll see you tonight, dear," the Professor said, simply.


	22. Chapter 22

"We're going to have to take a lot of provisions on that boat," Mary Ann said, scraping out a coconut shell.

"Oh, I can hardly believe it, we're going home!" Ginger said.

"Say, Ginger, do you think Eva's life will really be changed when she gets home?"

"Oh, I don't know…I guess not. I mean…as Ginger Grant, she's got poise and charm and sex appeal. But when she gets home, I'm afraid she may be Eva Grubb again."

Mary Ann nodded, a cloud darkening over her face. She had to admit, Eva's Ginger impression was good. Too good. The change brought forth from the nasty, bitter spinster was shocking.

"I mean, there's only one Ginger Grant," Ginger finished, shrugging her shoulders.

"True," Mary Ann replied, returning to coconut shredding. (Neither noticed that Eva was within earshot and heard the entire conversation. Eva left without detection.)

"So, tell me what happened," Ginger prompted.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Mary Ann said, smiling coyly. "But…everything is good."

"Clear as day, from what I can see. So, are you continuing things when we leave tomorrow morning?"

"Yes."

"I knew it. I fully expect to be maid of honor out of this."

"Ginger, don't be ridiculous. This relationship is all very new. I don't want to leap in blindfolded."

"You've been friends for nearly four years!" Ginger protested, giving her a side eye. "Or do you mean…"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

"You really don't need to worry, Mary Ann. You'll figure it out. Everyone is different. It's a good thing we're headed back to civilization and…well, the miracles of modern science make it easier for girls these days."

"Ginger!" Mary Ann said, throwing a piece of coconut at her. "Good grief. I didn't mean that! I meant getting married. Eventually. Maybe."

"Well, you know perfectly well what risks are involved if you were to sleep together, married or not," Ginger said, in her blunt way. "If we weren't leaving here, you would really be in trouble, unless you were prepared for the probability of the patter of little feet in a few months."

"We didn't –"

"I know that, dummy. But you want to."

"Desperately," Mary Ann sighed.

"And it's just a matter of time."

Mary Ann blushed. "My aunt and uncle would be shocked at this conversation. Well, maybe not. A classmate once told me that I happened to be one of those surprise miracles, myself. My parents had to get married. Which is probably why they hated each other."

Ginger's jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Happens more than you think, especially in a farming community. Most people I went to high school with were engaged before they were out of high school. I'm sure you can guess why."

Ginger laughed. "Well, if you ever need pointers…"

"Thank you, Ginger, I think I can manage just fine."

-o0o-

The party started off fairly quietly. Eva and Ginger were at the girls' hut while the others gathered around the eating area. They milled around a bit, discussing what they were planning on doing when they returned, although everyone's answer was always the same. The Howells would go back to one of their fleet of homes; the Skipper would have a massive steak dinner; Gilligan would have a double thick chocolate malted with whipped cream and buy as many back issues of his favorite comic as he could.

Mary Ann and Mrs Howell had decorated the table beautifully with hors d'oeuvres and tasty snacks. Mrs Howell was delighted with Mary Ann's hostess skills, and generously offered to hire her as a personal decorator for whichever house she wished to choose.

Mr Howell supplied some of his special stash as a present for Eva. The Howells brought out some of their records, as well. The Professor seemed a little nervous – he kept looking at the record cover and didn't speak much at all. He was too busy gazing at Mary Ann, who was currently seated next to Gilligan in her lovely red dress, snacking on grapes.

The Howells announced that they wanted to thank Eva for her generosity. Ginger got up and told everyone that Eva was still preoccupied, and she would go fetch her. When she got up to leave, she bumped straight into the Professor.

"Oh, sorry, Mary Ann," she muttered, rushing past him. The Professor raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. Ginger must have been hitting the secret Howell scotch stash early. The Professor cranked up the record player. Mary Ann walked up to him and smiled.

"May I have this dance?" she asked. "It's Sadie Hawkins Night." He started to laugh, as he remembered the ridiculous posters his students occasionally hung in the high school halls.

"Of course. Your school did that, too, eh?" He said, taking her in his arms to dance. The Skipper watched them with a broad smile. Gilligan remained preoccupied with a banana. The Howells got up and joined them. Mrs Howell kept looking over her husband's shoulder at the Professor and Mary Ann.

"Thurston, I feel like matchmaking again," she whispered.

Mr Howell spun them around to take a look for himself.

"By the looks of what I see, they beat you to it, Lovey." They smiled at each other knowingly. Mr Howell broke out into an improvised flamenco dance.

The Professor and Mary Ann were blissfully unaware of the scrutiny. They were enjoying themselves very much.

"You look lovely tonight, dear," he said.

"Thank you. So do you. Handsome, I mean." She blushed, as he held her a little closer. They danced together in silence, awkwardly wondering if the others noticed any elevated behavior between them. The Skipper cranked the record again. Mary Ann silently hoped that a return to civilization would mean different music to dance to in the future. "What on earth do you think is holding Ginger and Eva up?"

"I admit, it's a little strange," he replied. "Do you think Ginger's drunk? I can't blame her, really. She's probably the least sure of what will happen to her career with her return."

"It's a possibility; I wouldn't worry about Ginger, though. She has the Skipper."

The Professor chuckled and looked up at said Skipper, still manning the record player, cheerfully waving his fingers to the beat of the song.

"GINGER!" the Skipper bellowed. "COME DOWN AND DANCE WITH US! YOU'RE MISSING A GREAT PARTY!"

No answer from the girls' hut. The record wound down. After the song ended, they sat at the table to wait for Ginger and Eva.

"What's taking them so long?" Gilligan asked, his mouth full of banana. "Ginger promised me a dance."

The Skipper also had been promised a dance. He'd had hopes for Gilligan to find some romance with Eva: two awkward, shy weirdos might enjoy each other's company, he thought. He'd urged the newly-made-over Eva to try kissing him earlier in the day. It only ended up frightening Gilligan, but to be fair, the Skipper underestimated Eva's pent-up aggression.

"Play that song again," Mr Howell said. "It was the first song Lovey and I danced to."

"Awww, how romantic!" Mary Ann said, sitting down at the table. The Professor patted her shoulders and went over to relieve the Skipper from record-cranking duty. Eva came down the path this time, but not Ginger.

"There she is now, Thurston!" declared Mrs Howell.

"Oh, just in time, my dear!" He cracked open a bottle of champagne. "Love that sound."

"I wonder where Ginger is! I'll go get her," Mary Ann offered.

"Oh, no, no no, I'll go get her. You just stay here and enjoy yourselves," Eva replied, dashing back up the path.

Mary Ann took a sip of coconut milk. _Those two sure are acting weird,_ she thought. _I'm beginning to wonder if everything is alright. It's not like Ginger to miss out on a party. Maybe she is under the weather._

A few minutes later, Ginger came down the path…this time without Eva. Everyone was at the table, getting annoyed with both women. The whole business was flaky, even for Ginger. Mary Ann offered her a drink, but Ginger spilled it all over the table.

"Ginger, where's Eva? Mr Howell and I have a little present for her," said Mrs Howell. "We want to show our gratitude to the dear girl. I'll go find her!"

Ginger protested and ran back up the path toward the hut. Mrs Howell shrugged and turned to Mary Ann. "I say, these young modern girls are so rude sometimes." The rest nodded. The Skipper looked more and more forlorn as the night ticked on. Mary Ann offered to dance with him so he'd have a partner, but he politely declined, saying the Professor was a much better dancer.

"Nonsense," Mary Ann insisted. "I mean, maybe he is, but I don't want you to feel left out!"

She promptly got up and danced with the Skipper a little bit. He tripped on her foot after a few moments and apologized.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann. That was sweet of you to offer, but…well, you know." She nodded.

"Alright, I understand." She turned back to the table as the Skipper went back to the record player. "Do you want to dance, Gilligan?"

"Not unless you want your other foot bruised. I'm lousy."

She shrugged her shoulders and regained her dance with the Professor. "Guess I'm stuck with you," she said, grinning.

"Always the consolation prize." He pulled her a little closer and whispered in her ear. "As the Romans say, _dulcibus est tripudium alliciendus amor_. I think that's right. My Latin is rusty."

"And what does Roy Hinkley say?"

"I'm enjoying myself very much right now."

They smiled at each other as he guided her a little farther away, to be out of earshot of the others. Occasionally one of them would dip their heads shyly as they continued their conversation. The Skipper watched them from the record table, grinning from ear to ear. Yep, his Cupid operation was in full swing.

Mrs Howell peered at them with her lorgnette and smiled. _Yes, of course,_ she thought. _The Professor and Mary Ann. They are perfect for each other. I don't know what I was thinking before. How perfectly practical they are, the darlings. _

The Professor held Mary Ann a little closer as they swayed to the music. "I'm looking forward to leaving tomorrow," he said.

Mary Ann looked up. Neither Eva nor Ginger was back yet.

"Do you think there's something peculiar about all this? This doesn't seem like Ginger at all."

"Now that you mention it…it is strange."

"But truthfully, I don't want to talk about Eva and Ginger," he said. "I think you know what I want to talk about."

"It's possible," she joked. "Whatever is on your mind, Professor?"

"The chemical compounds comprising common dish detergent," he replied, with a straight face. She playfully slapped him on the arm and started laughing. (Mrs Howell took notes of this interaction from the table. _Very good prospects, indeed, _she thought.)

The spell was broken soon afterward, due to some commotion going on over at the table – Ginger fell and spilled champagne all over herself, and then, to everyone's surprise (well, not everyone's) the actual Ginger appeared behind the Professor and Mary Ann. It seemed Eva had been attempting a con.

"Aha! I knew there was something peculiar!" The Professor exclaimed.

"Ginger! What happened?"

The tale came out. Eva apologized for attacking her; Ginger admonished her. Once again, movie star drama precluded all else.

The next morning, Mary Ann woke up and discovered Eva had left. She woke Ginger, who was alarmed by her absence. They ran out to look for the others and found the men having breakfast. When they realized Eva had disappeared, they ran toward the lagoon. She was long gone, left with a note calling them all "suckers" and declaring herself "The New Ginger Grant."

Ginger was devastated and clung to the Skipper, bawling her eyes out. Mary Ann felt sympathetic to Ginger - this really was a low blow. At this point she felt worse about that than the prospect of going home. They all glumly headed back to camp.

-o0o-

"So...despite all that happened last night, I did notice that you and the Professor were getting pretty cozy," Ginger said, scraping off fruit residue from the dishes. Dinner had been a fairly glum affair. Ginger wouldn't talk; the Howells were complaining about falling stocks, and Gilligan burned the roof of his mouth on the fish stew. Only the Skipper seemed to be in fairly good spirits.

"A little," Mary Ann replied. "Although we mostly talked about how weird you and Eva were being."

Ginger laughed. "It took me two hours to get out of those ropes. Too bad the magician I worked for wasn't an escape artist. That would have helped. I don't want to talk about her anymore. Let's talk about you and the Professor."

"Have you ever been in love, Ginger? Really in love?" Mary Ann asked. "One can never trust movie magazine gossip, you know."

"Once," Ginger replied. "I loved a playwright. He was really smart and bookish and a bit like the Professor, which is why I was so crazy about him at first. But Roger – that was his name – he left me for a journalist. Said I was too fussy for him. It's true, I am…"

"Well…"

Unbeknownst to the women, the Professor happened to be right near the washing up area as Ginger said this. He didn't mean to eavesdrop – he really just wanted to get a drink of water from the well – but he couldn't help it.

"It looks like we're staying here for some time," Ginger continued. "It's too bad you never had a chance to experiment on any starter boys before now. If you know what I mean."

Mary Ann's temper rose exponentially. "Look, I don't see how my not being a floozy translates into inexperience with romance."

"I BEG YOUR PARDON!" Ginger fumed. "You don't know a damn thing about love, little sister."

"If by love you mean sex, I'll be the first to admit that no, I don't."

(The Professor nearly spat out his water when he overheard this. He was certainly intrigued, now. This argument came out of nowhere, it seemed.)

Ginger slammed down a plate on the table.

"You're just jealous. You've always been so damn jealous of me. Admit it."

"Jealous of WHAT, exactly?"

Ginger got quiet and sat down on her bed. "I don't have to take this. I was trying to help you and you got so defensive."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"But I'm not a little girl, Ginger. I'm a grown woman."

"So start acting like one."

"By whose standards? Yours? No thanks. I've witnessed plenty, thanks."

"You don't know the first thing about it."

"Sleeping around Hollywood in exchange for a role in a B-movie, a bunch of free meals, fur coats and diamonds, or a month's rent? Has it ever occurred to you that you cheapened yourself there? That none of those wolves ever appreciated you for yourself?"

Ginger shook with rage and humiliation. "I suppose you think that what you have with the Professor is any better. She deepened her voice in mocking tones. 'Mary Ann, need you to test these soap flakes. Mary Ann, I need you to go out and look for this specific breed of butterfly.' What do YOU get out of that? You actually like being bossed around all the time? Might as well just join the WACs."

"It's better than – "

"No, it's NOT. Look, you two are like a pair of robots. It might be good now that you're finally discovering each other, but he needs to be more…I don't know, demonstrative, romantic. And not in that dopey Rex Harrison impression way of his. God, I tried to talk him out of that when I was coaching him."

(The Professor frowned. _That's Cary Grant, not Rex Harrison!)_

Ginger continued. "You can be all high and mighty and cut me down for being a Hollywood floozy, but overall, you're no better than a puppy dog around him. If you don't watch it, what you have right now is going to fizzle. I should know. That's what happened with Roger the playwright. All work and no play." She dabbed her eyes.

"I don't want to argue anymore," Mary Ann said, placing the last of the dishes on the bamboo mat, knowing that what Ginger said was true.

"Me neither. And no, I haven't forgotten those psychic beans. We know perfectly well what each of us thinks of the other," Ginger replied. "All I'm saying is, you two need to take a break and have a little fun."

"It's not ALL work," Mary Ann replied. She decided to bite her tongue and refrain from mentioning that the brunt of the work fell on her and the Professor because Ginger wouldn't pick up the slack. That was an argument for another time.

Ginger sat next to her. "Look honey, everyone knows you two are in love, now. No – it's true, everyone does. I heard Mrs Howell gabbing about it. So like it or not, things are changing between all of us. Who knows how long we'll be here? Go make out on the beach. Have a picnic. Fool around. You're much happier now that the love bug's bit. Definitely less uptight, anyway."

Mary Ann threw the towel at Ginger and laughed as they headed back to the hut.

The Professor ducked behind a tree before he could be spotted. He was stunned by Ginger's frank and fairly astute observations_. _She was right. He and Mary Ann had been working fairly tirelessly lately. He didn't want what they had to fizzle out before it had a chance to blossom. He wanted to make a grand gesture.

He decided to go over to the Howells' hut to ask for a rare favor.

-o0o-

"Of course, dear!" Mrs Howell exclaimed, when the Professor explained his plan to her. "I would be very happy to oblige such a sweet gesture. I know my meddling in the past has failed miserably here, but I have a good feeling this time. Oh, I love the spring!"

"It's November, Mrs Howell," the Professor replied.

"Thurston!" she cried, as her husband walked through the door, clutching a bamboo tumbler of fruity cocktail drinks.

"Yes, Lovey? Hello, Professor! You seem in good spirits," he mused.

"Very," the Professor said, with a grin. "I am embarking on a secret mission and wish to enlist your assistance."

Lovey threw her hands in the air with glee. "You see, Thurston, I was right!"

"Well, of course you are, darling, you're my little genius," Mr Howell replied, sipping his mai tai. "Just don't become one of those eggheads like this one here. Now, my boy, what is it you need? I don't like to be left in the dark, as it were."

The Professor leaned in and repeated his plans. Mr Howell's face lit up with delight.

"How perfectly marvelous. You old dog. I didn't know you had it in you. Of course we will do everything we can. Lovey, dear, go get the safety deposit box."


	23. Chapter 23

The women were relaxing in their hut a few afternoons later – well, if you could call it relaxing. Mary Ann was darning the Skipper's socks. Ginger was toying with mascara in the mirror.

"What do you think of this?" Ginger asked, turning around. She looked exactly like she always did, to Mary Ann's untrained eye, but she feigned surprise.

"Wow, Ginger, you look like a million bucks!"

Ginger turned back to the mirror triumphantly. "I know," she replied. "Isn't it great?"

Mary Ann rolled her eyes and returned to darning the sock. It was getting harder to patch some clothes at this point; luckily, a few provisions washed ashore not too long ago. A few socks, a few men's Oxford shirts – at least they could stave off running around in rags for a while, anyway.

-o0o-

The Professor had, in the meantime, been working steadily in his outdoor lab – not on an experiment, this time, but on something very special indeed. The Howells had given him one of the gold bricks that had been fished out of the lagoon. He melted some of the boullion down in the kiln he'd made, and managed to fashion a little setting for the pearl he found in the oyster bed months ago. He carved a flower pattern in a stamp out of a coconut shell and pressed it into the soft metal, then added four prongs to hold it in place. Mrs Howell generously let him have one of her gold chains. Although the effect was somewhat primitive, almost Grecian, it was absolutely breathtaking when he finished it. He polished the metal and took the rest of the boullion back to the Howells.

"Oh Professor, it's simply exquisite!" Mrs Howell said, looking it over with her lorgnette. "How clever of you. You really are marvelous. No, don't think of returning the rest of the gold. That brick is yours to do what you like with it. But why did you make a pendant?"

"What should I have made?" he replied.

"A ring, of course!" Mrs Howell exclaimed, horrified. "Oh, this really should be a matching set. You're going to marry her, I assume?"

"Mrs Howell, I…"

"Nonsense. A man only buys jewelry for a woman if his intentions are serious. Yours must be quite serious, indeed," she said, tapping her gloved finger to the end of her nose.

"Yes, you're right."

"Splendid! I do love playing Cupid. Anyway, I know the dear girl is from a simple place with simple tastes, but my advice to you, Professor, is to be as extravagant as possible. Make a matching piece!"

"Alright," he replied. The Professor took the pendant back in his hand and looked it over. He wondered if there might be any other pearls in the oyster bed to match it.

"And take your time," she said. "Thurston courted me for four years."

"Four years?" he asked, aghast.

"Well, three and a half, if you want to be technical," she replied. "That's the proper way to do it."

The Professor shook his head. "Thank you, Mrs Howell. You have been extraordinarily kind."

"I do love a romance. But I'd propose to her with a ring, not a necklace, as lovely as it is."

The Professor left the hut, holding his pendant and chain and half-melted gold brick, and walked toward the beach. He thought about making a matching ring, but when it came down to the practicalities of it, a ring wouldn't do much good for Mary Ann's day-to-day activities. Gutting fish, butchering island birds, washing dishes, gathering fruit – it simply wouldn't be practical and the likelihood of losing it too high. He smiled at the small pendant in his hand. The pearl gleamed prettily in the sunlight. Mr Howell passed by as the Professor was admiring his handiwork.

"Here," the Professor said, handing over the brick. "Thank you, Mr Howell. I got what I needed."

"Let me examine this bauble," Mr Howell said, looking it over. "Nice work, Professor. You might have a job as a jeweler at Tiffany's when we return."

"Well, understanding the chemical properties of gold helps! The most common gold compounds are auric chloride and chlorauric acid…"

"Enough of that egghead talk. Let's talk my favorite subject - money."

"Money?"

"How much I pay you to make my wife something comparable. You're very talented."

"We'll talk later, Mr Howell." The Professor smiled and went back on his way to the hut. He got out a piece of paper, and in his neat, precise script, he wrote down two lines from a movie he saw as a kid that had always stuck with him. He knew the source, of course, but he also remembered Mary Ann mentioning it being one of her favorite films.

_Grand gesture, indeed!_ He thought, with pride. _This might be my most brilliant idea yet!_

Ginger came by and poked her head in the door. "Hi, Professor, whatcha doing?"

"Ginger!" He looked up with a grin on his face. "I need you."

"Too late," she said, yawning. "You could have had me years ago. Ho-hum."

"Oh, stop it," he said, gesturing for her to come in. "I need your help."

Ginger listened to the Professor's plan and smiled conspiratorially. "Ooh, I love this idea!" she squealed. "She will be over the moon. I'll get to work right away."

"Great, now you know what to do!" he said.

"Yep. You don't have to tell me twice, Professor, this is my forte." She winked and took off toward the area he designated.

Mary Ann came up the path holding a glass of juice, only to spot Ginger as she snuck out of the Professor's hut. Mary Ann watched her look both ways before running toward the laundry area.

_That's strange,_ thought Mary Ann. _Why would she be here? She clearly doesn't want to be seen. _

Mary Ann rapped on the door frame. The Professor's back was to her. He was going to enjoy the surprise!

"Did you forget something, Ginger?" he asked, turning around. Seeing Mary Ann instead startled him so much, he knocked over his chair as he stood up, trying to pocket his note.

"Ginger! Ha, that's a laugh. I just saw her running toward the lagoon. I thought you might be thirsty. The Skipper says you've been hard at work since the early morning. Here's some papaya and coconut juice."

"Mary Ann! Oh, uh, thank you!" he said, afraid she was going to figure out what he was up to. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Mmm, papaya! Loads of vitamins!"

"Is something wrong, Roy?"

"No…uh, nothing's wrong!" he stammered, trying desperately to think of a way to get her out of his hut before she suspected anything was afoot. Mary Ann read through him immediately and tapped her foot.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Uh…nothing," the Professor said.

"You're behaving really weirdly."

"Well, it's just that I, uh, I asked Ginger to give me a haircut! Getting a little long on the sides. Don't want to look like a Mosquito," he said, dumbly running his hand along the side of his head.

"You had your hair cut last week," Mary Ann replied, crossing her arms and cocking her head. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

Ginger dramatically made an entrance in the hut, not seeing Mary Ann at first.

"Professor! Are you ready to inspect my handiwork? I think it'll be perrrrfect for a romantic night of kissing and hugging and -." she announced, hugging herself, with flair. "Oh, whoops, um…sorry. Hi, Mary Ann."

Mary Ann felt the pit of her stomach drop and she suddenly felt nauseous. "HOW COULD YOU?" Mary Ann roared. She furiously threw the glass of juice in the Professor's face and ran out of the hut in tears. She couldn't believe Ginger would betray her like that….but not Roy! She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't. But there they were, plain as day, announcing their clandestine trysts as if she wasn't even in the room!

The Professor sat there with papaya juice dripping off his face, trying to process what had happened. Then he put two and two together – she must think – oh, she couldn't! He pulled a towel out of the storage locker and wiped his face.

"Ginger, of all the moronic, idiotic things…"

"I know, I know."

-o0o-

_The Skipper and that cosmonaut weren't enough for you? _ Mary Ann thought, raging, swatting overgrown plants out of her face as she tore down the trail. She ran into the jungle, toward the other side of the island. She needed to be alone. To face them now would be humiliating.

She decided she would spend the night in the cave on the north shore. She had some provisions from a butterfly excursion stored there, and it was near a fresh water supply. It would do.

She reached the cave twenty minutes later. It would have been faster if she'd had on her skimmers, but she could still run fast if she needed to. The shock of the situation had her incredibly distressed. She sniffled and felt brokenhearted by her beloved Professor's betrayal. Perhaps it was the isolation that got him. Or maybe Ginger finally found a trick that worked. It was no use. She would never win him back after this. She was destined to be alone…because the only alternatives were the Skipper and Gilligan, and neither of them were very good prospects. She shuddered at the idea of being married to Gilligan. He was very sweet, but so…weird.

"No, I'll be like Bette Davis," she told herself, standing up and brushing herself off. "I'll be tough and independent. I'll be Margo Channing. And the Professor is Bill! Or is he Lloyd? Oh…I don't know how to deal with this!" she wailed, crumpling back on the ground crying.

-o0o-

"Mary Ann just tore off in the jungle all upset about something," Gilligan said, walking into the Professor's hut. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Did you say the jungle?" the Professor asked, worried. He had just assumed she ran back to her hut and he would go down after changing his shirt. This was much more serious.

"Oh, I screwed things up," Ginger wailed.

"Wasn't me this time!" Gilligan said, a smile lighting up his face. He turned to the Professor. "What happened? You're covered in juice!"

"Oh, you tell him, Ginger, I have to go find her," the Professor said.

Ginger explained what had happened, and Gilligan put his hand to his mouth as his eyes got wide. "Uh oh."

"Uh-oh what?"

"I saw all of that sitting out by the beach and I had a picnic there with Gladys. She ate all the fruit I couldn't."

Ginger stood up and put her hands on her hips. "Gilligan! How could you? That was special! Oh, this went so wrong!"

Gilligan stood helplessly as Ginger cried. "Don't cry, Ginger, I'll help you pick some more fruit. Let's go get the Skipper."

-o0o-

In the meantime, the Professor searched the jungle alone, calling out for Mary Ann. He thought, in her haste, she might leave a clue as to where she'd run off, but her footprints were all over the usual spots and she could have gone any which way she wanted. There were no broken plants or telltale signs of her disappearance. He got worried sick, thinking about potential headhunters, or pits, or quicksand, or dangerous animals.

"MARY ANN?" he called once more, hearing nothing but echo.

The others got word of her disappearance and they began a hunt. No trace of her could be found. Mary Ann knew the island terrain as well as the Professor, and every lead on her tracks led to a dead end.

Finally, after a few hours, most of the search party gave up and went home. It was getting dark, and the likelihood of finding her grew slimmer and slimmer. The only person who kept looking was the Professor, who was sure she would be smart enough to start a fire, which would lead him to her.

He was right. He saw her from a distance in the hidden cave a couple of hours later, with a nice crackling fire. She had opened a coconut and was eating the inside. He thought about calling to her and apologizing for the misunderstanding, but he was afraid to upset her. He remembered the note in his pocket. He took it out, and, taking the pencil in his front pocket, included an addendum.

Mary Ann cuddled up on the blanket, and buried her head in her arms, sobbing. When her shoulders stopped shaking, and he was sure she had fallen asleep, he walked to the entrance of the cave and put the note next to her pillow. He then tiptoed out, not to disturb her. He kept watch over her until she stirred and woke up. When he was sure she saw the note, he took off.

-o0o-

Mary Ann looked at the note, puzzled.

"_Mary Ann Summers_," it says. That's certainly not Mrs Howell's handwriting." For a solid minute, she didn't want to read it, but curiosity got the better of her.

_Dearest Mary Ann, _

_The untold want by life and land ne'er granted,__  
__Now, voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find."_

_(For instance, the north beach. – R.H.)_

Mary Ann, ever the Girl Scout, put out the fire and walked toward the beach. The moon was high in the sky – much like the moonlit walk she and Roy took many months ago, the one where Gilligan accidentally blew up the glue.

-o0o-

She found him where he said he would be, a shadowy figure cheerfully combing for pretty shells. He had found three pieces of coral and a whelk, but nothing terribly interesting.

He saw her approach, and tentatively walked toward her, afraid she was still upset.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "But I found this note and figured you must have gone through a lot of trouble to find me."

"I'm afraid this was all a terrible misunderstanding. You see…Ginger…"

Mary Ann crossed her arms, trying to prepare herself for the worst.

"…was helping me plan something romantic for you," he finished, looking down at her with pleading eyes. "I wanted to do something really special."

Mary Ann down her arms and hung her head. She began to cry again. "Are you just saying that to make me come back?" she asked. "It sure sounded like…"

"It sounded like what your subconscious wanted you for it to sound like," he finished. "And your subconscious, in this case, is your worst enemy. It thinks that I don't find you the most incredible, brave, sweet, beautiful woman in the world. And it's so wrong, dearest, it's so wrong." He pulled her into his arms as she rested her head on his chest. "Mary Ann, I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you."

"I love you, Roy," she said. "I shouldn't have overreacted and made everyone worry."

"No, you shouldn't have," he chuckled, reaching down to her face and wiping off a tear. "Especially when I was going through all the trouble to give you something special." He pulled out the little box containing the necklace he had made for her. "Here. You see, I wanted to do something on a grand scale for you, like Mrs Howell had suggested."

"What's this?" she gasped.

"I made it for you," he replied. "Remember the oyster bed we found? There was a little pearl in one of them and I made this out of some of the boullion melted down from our gold stash."

She opened it and in the moonlight, the remarkable pendant sparkled marvelously.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she whispered. "You made this for me?"

He took it out of the box and gently put it around her neck. After clasping it, he dipped down and kissed the nape of her neck. She turned around and pulled him against her, kissing him with all of the pent-up passion she could muster. It nearly knocked him off his feet.

"I knew all along you'd be an excellent lab partner," he murmured, brushing his lips over her cheeks and down to her neck.

They dropped the soft sand, kissing fiercely. This escalated into a highly charged, full-out make out session worthy of any drive-in back home. His caresses were delicious, Mary Ann thought, desperately wanting to give in completely. "God, how I want you, Roy," she whispered.

"Oh, Mary Ann, so do I," he said, gasping for breath, trying to sort out the raging emotions in his head and failing. "Forever. I don't want a primitive or a civilized life without you," he said. "Please say you'll be my wife."

She answered him with a deep kiss, one that was gentle and sweet.

"I take it that's a yes." She nodded as she pulled him down to her once more.

He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck, sending shivers through her. "As much as I to make love to you immediately, let's be civilized about this," he said. "We should make it official before we find ourselves in any kind of trouble with the others. You know how Mrs Howell gets."

"Somewhere, my Aunt Martha approves highly of you," she laughed. "You didn't have to do a grand gesture for me," she said later. "Although I love being spoiled. I am simply happy to be with you. No matter what."

"I feel the same way. Well, it's settled then. You and me. Let's set a date."

"We could get married as a Christmas present. We have a month and a half or so. Let's not leap into anything blindly, Roy. I want to savor this special time together."

"Capital idea. Where should we go for our honeymoon?"

"There's always the munitions pit. It's… soundproof."

The Professor laughed. "You little minx!"

"You know as well as I do what the Scouting motto is."

He got quiet for a moment. "Mary Ann, we must discuss the logistics of potential…biological outcomes of this marriage. I know, terribly romantic, but the likelihood of children within a year in our situation is statistically quite high."

"I have thought of that. To be honest, that's the only thing really preventing me from taking you right now." He melted a little at this and stroked her cheek with his finger as he spoke.

"Mary Ann, there are so many risks. I want children with you, but we are so far away from hospitals of any kind. And the possibility of losing you is terrifying."

"My great-great-grandmother raised eleven children to adulthood on a Kansas prairie without any doctors or medical books. And there are natives on the neighboring islands who have children all the time. It's not unheard of, you know."

He held her tightly. "Alright. This doesn't ease my concerns much, but I'm relieved that we talked about this. I knew you had a level head on your shoulders."

"How long has this been weighing on your mind?" she teased.

"Almost daily…for months now."

She pulled her to him and kissed him gently. "I'm not going anywhere, Roy. We've faced plenty together already, what's one more hurdle? We've lived through a lot in just these few years, and we've learned to cope with constant threat. I am not trying to paint a rosy picture of our situation, but…?" she trailed off.

"Yes, dearest. I know."

"Let's just enjoy what we have, in the moment. Ginger was right."

"Ginger WAS right." And with that, they sealed their pact with a kiss.

-o0o-

They walked back to the cave together and fell sound asleep in each other's arms on a pile of furs, just like their Paleolithic ancestors before them. Not entirely joined yet, but certainly never to be apart in spirit again.


	24. Chapter 24

The Professor and Mary Ann returned the next morning well-rested and happy. They knew their happiness would be shared by everyone else, but they decided to keep their engagement under wraps until a week before Christmas. Everyone suspected it was inevitable at this point, but they still wanted to keep things as private as possible for the time being.

Several major things happened in the meantime – a strange little man was dropped on the island for a radio contest. He had furtively stolen a bunch of the Castaways' supplies and was discovered later. He refused to allow anyone to use the transmitter to contact home, which resulted in some dysfunctional encounters. He left by helicopter.

The disappointment in being left behind once more was quelled by the fact that the transmitter in question contained the $10,000 he was supposed to win all along, and it was currently smashed to bits on the cliffs.

While Gilligan and the Skipper were off mending fishing nets, Ginger walked over to the Professor, who was on the chaise lounge reading his fact book.

"Hi, Ginger," he said, not looking up. He could tell she was nearby because of the clouds of perfume wafting through the air.

"Professor, I have a fun idea for you," she said.

"What's that?"

"Mary Ann is off gathering wildflowers for our huts right now. I think you should take her out on a date tonight. Special dinner, just the two of you."

"That's a great idea," he said, putting down his book and biting into a piece of dried papaya. (Dehydrated fruits were another one of Mary Ann's brilliant food preservation schemes.) "But what about everyone else tonight? I don't want to invite her over if she's cooking dinner."

"I'll cook dinner, don't you worry. Well, I'll make a salad or something. I'm learning. Mary Ann is teaching me how to make pie. I could try making fish pie."

"A special dinner sounds marvelous," the Professor said diplomatically.

"Wear your sportcoat and put some flowers and a candle on your table. I'll see if the Howells will let you borrow their phonograph. You can play the Mosquitoes," she said, winking.

The Professor laughed. "Yeah, _He's A Loser_ is sure to set the mood!"

Another surefire way to kill the mood - which he didn't mention – was eating food made by Ginger. He didn't know how to cook much, but with his rudimentary camping culinary skills from Scouting, he knew he could make a fairly decent crab salad. Mary Ann and he had also figured out how to make mango vinegar some months ago, which was very delicious with that and some avocados. Yes, this would be nice.

-o0o-

Mary Ann came back an hour or so later, her arms bursting with beautiful blossoms. She arranged some in her hut, putting them in a pretty vase. She took some to the Howells, and finally arranged a pretty centerpiece for the dining table. The Professor heard her singing to herself as she did her chores. Mary Ann didn't exactly have what you could call a passable singing voice, but it was charming to hear her tone deaf songs nonetheless.

"Mary Ann," he called out. "Come here!"

She walked over to his hut and stuck her head in the window.

"What's going on?"

He stood up and walked out the door, stiffly and formally. He bowed to her.

"You look lovely, dear," he said stiffly, as if he were reciting something from memory.

"Thank you," she replied, laughing a little at his formality. Mary Ann was wearing her dungarees, a work shirt, and her skimmers. She had dirt and a scratch on her face from the jungle. "What's going on, Roy?"

"I'd like to know if you would do me the honor of having dinner with me tonight at my place of residence," he replied, gesturing toward his hut.

"I would be delighted," she replied, "But who is cooking the others' food tonight? Not Ginger…?"

Ginger appeared up the path behind her. "Yes, Ginger," she said, a little put out. "I thought you two should have a nice private conversation."

"You mean like the one we were just having?" Mary Ann countered.

"Yes. I'm making everyone fish pie like you taught me. Now, you come back with me." She gently took Mary Ann's arm, and winked at the Professor.

"Seven o'clock, dear," the Professor said, kissing Mary Ann's hand. "I will pick you up at your home."

Mary Ann snickered at the whole thing. Just a few nights before, the Professor had his hands all over her in places that still made her blush, and here he was pretending to Ginger, of all people, that he was the pillar of propriety.

She curtseyed deeply, as well as she could in dungarees, anyway, and said she would be there.

Ginger led her back down to their hut.

"Alright, honey, you get yourself a shower or go swimming in the lagoon or something. No offense, but you reek. That's probably why he kissed your hand, to keep you at arms length."

Mary Ann put her hands on her hips. "I was out in 90º weather all afternoon!"

"Precisely. You are very stinky." Mary Ann rolled her eyes, grabbed her towel and headed to the shower area. When she had scrubbed down well enough with the jasmine soap she had made, she returned to the hut to dress. She picked out her pretty red gingham.

"No, no, wear this," Ginger said, throwing her one of the silent movie gowns from that trunk. It was too small for Ginger, since most women in the 20s were more Mary Ann's size anyway. It was a pretty black evening dress with jet beadwork around the collar.

"This dropped waist makes me look like a photo of my grandma," Mary Ann said, laughing when she saw herself in the mirror.

"It looks a little old-fashioned, but it suits your figure very well," Ginger said honestly. "Here. Let me do your hair."

She took one of the flowers from the vase and put it in Mary Ann's hair, giving her a very fetching updo. Ginger then did some dramatic eye makeup on Mary Ann's face.

"Now I REALLY look like Grandma Jennie!" Mary Ann said, looking in the mirror. "But it looks lovely!"

"I think so, too. Ooh. It's almost seven."

A few minutes later, the Professor showed up in his sport jacket, and handed her a bouquet of flowers. Not like Cary Grant this time, but nicely.

She looked breathtaking. His jaw dropped. Mary Ann always looked wonderful to him, but it was quite a change from the girl who had just come out of the jungle a few hours before. And there, glistening in the hollow of her throat, was his necklace. She smiled and took the flowers from him, kissing him on the cheek.

"Now, you have her back by midnight," Ginger said, waggling her finger. "And not a second after!"

The Professor gave her a puzzled look.

"Mrs Howell was rather upset the other night, you two," Ginger explained. "She was yammering on about loose morals. It keeps her off my back, but I'm just warning."

Mary Ann placed the flowers on her pillow. "We'll be good," she said.

"Too bad," Ginger said, shrugging. "Have fun."

-o0o-

The Professor and Mary Ann walked up the path to his hut. They ran into the Skipper and Gilligan, who were walking down to the dining area. "Hey guys," Gilligan said to them. "Boy, you sure look fancy. What's going on? Is there a party I don't know about?"

"Little Buddy, Ginger told you," the Skipper said in warning tones. (Ginger had told the Skipper her plan when she got one of his freshly caught fish for the pie.)

"Oh, right," Gilligan said. "I forgot. Ugh. Does that mean Ginger cooked tonight?"

"Yes," the Skipper replied. "And it will be delicious, won't it?"

Gilligan made a face and waved by to the Professor and Mary Ann. Mary Ann felt a twinge of guilt, but they would live. And if it was especially bad, they could always just have some bananas for dinner.

They reached the hut. The Professor cranked up the phonograph and put on a waltz record. He pulled out a chair for Mary Ann and lit the candle on the table. He then placed the bowl of crab salad with mango vinaigrette and avocado in the middle and spooned some out on her plate with a bit of finesse. They drank some wine that the Howells had in storage with their meal.

"This looks incredible!" she exclaimed in joy. "You did this?"

"Yes," he replied, feeling very proud of himself.

They ate their dinner, chit-chatting and gossiping about the others. The salad was delicious.

"I feel so spoiled," she said, patting her stomach after they had finished. "A girl could get used to this treatment."

"I thought you deserved a night off," he replied, getting up to give the phonograph another crank. Mary Ann got up and walked over toward him. He took her in his arms and they waltzed together a little.

"I appreciate it," she said. "Roy, was I…smelly? Earlier?"

He started laughing. "Not that I could tell – was Ginger planting ideas in your head again?"

"Maybe."

"Right now you smell like jasmine and…cocoa butter….and…mmmm…" The thought seemed to get lost as he nuzzled her neck. _There go those delicious shivers again_, thought Mary Ann, as she reached up and laid her hands over his heart. He put his over hers in turn.

"Tell me more about your electrode experiment," she whispered in his ear, as he held her against him. "I want to learn more about ions and protons."

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the Skipper's bellowing outside.

"PROFESSOR! MARY ANN! GET DOWN HERE QUICK! GINGER SET THE PIE ON FIRE! IT'S GOING OUT OF CONTROL!"

"You stay here," the Professor said, ripping off his sportcoat and rolling up his sleeves. "No sense in messing up your outfit and makeup."

"Nonsense," Mary Ann said, taking her necklace off and placing it on the table. She blew out the candle. "You are going to need an extra hand getting that fire out before it reaches the huts."

Before the Professor could protest, she grabbed his hand and they ran toward the fire.

Mary Ann threw off her shoes as they hurried down the path and ran in her smoke filled hut for her skimmers. There was no time to waste. Any spark could ignite their homes, and all the provisions with them. She hauled bucket after bucket from the well as the others came in from the lagoon to splash on the flames. Even the Howells did their part. Mrs Howell threw a glass of water on the fire and Mr Howell stomped a small outcropping with his Italian leather shoes. They were very pleased with themselves.

The fire was, thankfully, put under control and finally out soon enough, but Mary Ann looked like something the cat had dragged in afterward. Her face was covered in soot and she had torn the dress, sadly.

"That does it, Ginger, I'm giving you cooking lessons," she announced. Everyone laughed.

-o0o-

That night, the Castaways sat exhausted around the cleaned-up fire pit. They snacked on fruit and nuts, and talked about what had happened. Mary Ann sat on a log, with the Professor leaning against her. She rubbed his shoulders. The Skipper was trying to covertly figure out a way to put his arm around Ginger without looking too obvious, until she grabbed his hand and put it around her, herself. The Howells recounted their brave duties, and Gilligan cheerfully shared his banana with his monkey friend. Even though the place still smelled a bit smoky, they were all happy that they were able to save their huts.

Mary Ann had since changed into her normal clothes, and sadly her special dress was committed to the rag bin. But the Professor would always remember her in it, and that was all that mattered.

He reached up to take her hand in his and squeezed it.


	25. Chapter 25

A few hiccups happened on the way to the altar for the Professor and Mary Ann. Massive ones. First, a strange man landed on the island for a radio contest, and refused to reveal their co-ordinates. Ginger tried her best, but she was unable to sway him with her temptations.

Then a man named Jonathan Kincaid showed up in a helicopter, and he tried to kill Gilligan. Gilligan managed to survive, but they remained stranded on the island. It didn't seem like there were any breaks for anyone. They were forced to put off their wedding for some time as a result. Christmas came and went, and so did a number of crazy events.

"We'll get married, sweetheart," the Professor promised, as he and Mary Ann went out gathering oysters one morning. "Don't worry."

"I just feel like every time we're about to make an announcement to everyone or ask the Skipper to perform the ceremony, some catastrophe happens. Kincaid was the last straw. I can't decide whether he was worse than the constant threat of headhunters. Gilligan was so brave and I still feel so guilty for not being able to do anything for him."

"When dealing with a psychopath, it's anyone's game."

Mary Ann put down her basket of oysters. "And then there was that Tarzan guy. Didn't he look familiar to you? I could have sworn it was the same man who surfed here a few years ago."

The Professor opened an oyster and sampled it. "Come to think of it, he really did look like Duke. Nah, it would be too much of a coincidence."

Mary Ann plopped down on the sand and took off her skimmers to empty out the sand. She frowned and looked out at the ocean. The Professor joined her a few minutes later, a big smile on his face.

"Hey, look what I found," he said, handing her a lovely little pearl. "You'll soon have a matching set, dear."

Mary Ann's face lit up as she threw her arms around him. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

"Not half as much as you are, Mary Ann."

She smiled and put it safely in her little bag.

"Professor, dear," she said. "I don't want to shock you or anything, but I really wish we could just be together physically without any consequences. I know the likelihood of conceiving a child if we just go ahead is pretty high. Now I'm really beginning to understand the importance of the invention of the Pill back home. I wish there were a means to duplicate it here. Did I shock you?"

"Heavens, no," he chuckled. "The biological impulses get to me, too. Sometimes I even wonder if getting officially married would even make sense in our small society. Why would we do it? Who would we even be doing that for? A potential baby? The Howells? We have no idea how long we will be marooned here."

Mary Ann nodded. "If it were anywhere else on earth, I'd be offended. But here, it's literally a piece of paper. We love each other and we want to be together the rest of our lives. Isn't that marriage?"

"Even if we were to go home, we could always just go to a justice of the peace and make it legal there," he replied. "But where is home these days?"

"Home is you," she replied, taking his hand. "You're my home, Roy." He leaned in and kissed her.

"That's good enough for me."

The air got a bit cooler and they felt a breeze whipping up from the ocean. A storm was coming soon.

"We should probably start heading back to camp," the Professor said, getting up. "It looks like a doozy of an electrical storm is headed our way. Probably just a quickie, but we'd better get inside." They gathered the oyster baskets and headed back toward the huts. The wind started picking up faster, so they hurried along and dropped off the oysters in the storage cave. Lightning started flashing in the sky.

"I'll get started on lunch," Mary Ann said, kissing the Professor and heading toward her hut. "Thank you for the pearl."

"I'll make you a ring for it," he replied.

The Professor went back to his hut, smiling. What a pleasant morning they had. He was looking forward to many more of them. He sat down at his table and lit the Bunsen burner.

Minutes later, the Skipper was at his door, waving his arms frantically.

"Professor! Gilligan's been struck by lightning!"

-o0o-

"Mary Ann, can I borrow your rubber gloves?" the Professor asked, knocking on the girls' hut door.

"Oh, Roy, what for?" she asked. "I'm down to my last pair. We're going to have to make more from the sap."

The last time he had borrowed her gloves, it was for an experiment involving sulphur, and they reeked like rotten eggs for weeks until she reluctantly threw them out.

"I can't explain now, dear, no time."

Mary Ann fetched the gloves and handed them to him with a worried look. She knew when the Professor was hiding something from her, and her concern was growing. Something must have happened during the storm. He dashed back to his lab.

-o0o-

After the examination of the lightning strike damage, the Professor came out of the huts to tell Mary Ann and Ginger what had happened. As predicted, both of them were very upset by the news. Ginger lamented the idea of what poor, clumsy Gilligan could damage by having a 20-pound weight on his arm.

"Oh my! Is he okay?" Ginger asked. "My ex-boyfriend was struck by lightning once on location and he got these marks all over his body that looked like trees."

"Ginger. How did you know it was all over his body?" Mary Ann asked pretending to be shocked. The Professor shook his head, rolled his eyes, and picked up a pear for a snack.

"He's fine, but he's like a giant electromagnet now and is stuck to the bowling ball permanently. Mary Ann, I could use a hand later on dismantling the laundry bicycle. We're going to try to de-magnetize Gilligan."

Ginger laughed. "I don't know about you two, but I always found him attractive. Really, though, how bad is he?"

The Professor explained what they were to expect and asked them to be nonchalant, so Gilligan wouldn't feel so self-conscious.

One thing he forgot to mention, however, was the electromagnetic field surrounding Gilligan. When they tried to kiss his cheeks in sympathy, both Mary Ann and Ginger got shocked.

-o0o-

"That should do it," the Professor said, wiring the jumper cable to the bicycle generator. "This electrode should generate enough power to zap the rock into bits. We're going to need a powerful pedaler, though."

"There's the Skipper," Mary Ann replied, waving her arm. "Skipper! Can you help us?"

After their first successful run, Mary Ann ran to fetch Gilligan. The Professor explained the process (rather unsuccessfully). Another electrical storm was brewing, and Mary Ann wanted to get this over with as much as Gilligan. She hated thunderstorms. They always reminded her of Kansas weather.

"When we tried it before, the rock completely fell apart," Mary Ann suggested, trying to convince Gilligan that the process was safe enough to use on his arm.

The lightning cracked. "Maybe we oughta do it later," the Skipper said, getting worried about the impending storm. Gilligan insisted on doing the experiment immediately.

"Now, Mary Ann, when I tell you, you touch that rock with that electrode."

"Right."

The Skipper started pedaling. The Professor reassured Gilligan that it would be painless.

"Alright, Mary Ann, let's try it." Mary Ann touched the rock with the electrode. It made a zapping noise, but didn't fall apart, to everyone's surprise.

Suddenly the structure over them was struck by lightning and collapsed on top of Gilligan and Mary Ann. The Skipper and Professor were knocked to the ground. After a minute, they got up, dazed.

"Mary Ann," the Professor said, suddenly realizing what had happened. Oh god, was she alright? The Skipper and he called for her, trying to see through the smoke. _If she's hurt I'll never forgive myself,_ the Professor thought.

"Mary Ann! Are you alright?" She ran toward him, covered in dirt and debris, assuring them she was fine.

Gilligan, however, could not be seen.

The lightning made him invisible. And the Professor had no answers.

-o0o-

The next morning, the Professor and Mary Ann decided to go on a hunt out in the jungle to see if they could find herbs to make a potion to make Gilligan visible again. They'd explored the west shoreline most of the afternoon.

Mary Ann found an unexplored hollow between two cave outcroppings. She walked down and looked at the football-field sized area. It was gorgeous.

"Roy! Here's a plant we haven't catalogued yet," Mary Ann called out to the Professor. "How adorable! The seeds are shaped just like hearts!"

"I'll be over in a minute!" he called back, snipping off a branch of a Rogoku plant.

It was quite lovely, she thought. She sat on a rock, got out her sketchbook and little paint set, and carefully reproduced the plant shape with her pencil. Mary Ann's talent as an artist had grown quite a bit in the past few weeks, since the Professor had made some makeshift watercolors for her out of ingredients on the island. She had a good eye, and the sketchbook had proven to be a great resource for the others as well. Now that they had ideas of what to look for, it was getting easier for everyone to hunt ingredients and home remedies.

The Professor found Mary Ann a few minutes later. "What's this you found?" he asked. She showed him the seed pods shaped like little hearts. When he realized what it was, his eyes bugged out in shock.

"Mary Ann, I can't believe this. You've made the discovery of the century right here. Do you know what this plant is?" he asked, looking over it with delight. Yes, there was no doubt about it. This had to be it. _And so much of it! _he thought. _ Good heavens!_

"Not a clue. I just thought it was some kind of fennel or something." Her botanical-identification skills had also grown. She picked off a piece and smelled it. "It smells a little like fennel."

He nodded, with a rather saucy twinkle in his eye.

"It is. But this isn't just any fennel plant. This is Silphium."

"What's that? I've never heard of it. We certainly didn't grow it in Kansas. That's not the stuff beatniks smoke, is it? Speaking of – that looks like marijuana over there."

The Professor looked over at the area she was pointing to – no doubt about it. This was clearly the hedonistic area of the island. He chuckled as he picked apart the seed pods to examine the contents.

"The Ancient Greeks and Romans used it extensively in their cooking. Oh, Mary Ann, this is really something else!" He picked her up and whirled her around. Mary Ann wondered why he was so unusually happy – was he really that desperate for new flavors in cooking?

"That's great," she said, landing back on her feet. "I'm glad you are looking forward to some dinner variety."

"It was also used as a medicinal herb for various ailments – having some around could be very helpful when one of us gets ill. I don't know if it'll cure Gilligan of his invisibility, but it'll be helpful to you and me." the Professor continued.

Mary Ann smiled and snipped off another branch to examine it more closely. The Professor's voice lowered a bit as he looked around to see if anyone else was around. They weren't 100% sure that Gilligan wasn't within earshot. His penchant for isolation and sneaking up on people had already gotten him into trouble.

The Professor put his hands on Mary Ann's shoulders and whispered in her ear. "This plant is a highly effective aphrodisiac…and contraceptive."

Mary Ann looked up at him, finally understanding.

"Contraceptive? You mean…"

"Highly effective…for six hundred years or so. The Romans couldn't cultivate it very well and until now, it was thought extinct for two millennia. And here it is, growing all over our island like weeds. Right near all that marijuana, weirdly enough. They seem to have a symbiotic relationship. Good heavens."

She gave him a very interested eye. "And this fennel stuff works?"

"They used it for over 600 years. So much so, it even appeared on their currency. They killed it off from overuse. Historically, the heart symbol is derived from the image of this plant's seedpod. See?" He lifted one up to show her. "Ahem."

Mary Ann laughed heartily at this. Holding a sprig up in her fingers she looked more closely at the specimen. "Mother Nature seems to be on our side."

"Yes, I think most of our concerns have just evaporated," he replied.

"I mean, I would be fine either way," she said, fingering the plant, "but….this is quite the discovery, isn't it?"

"It certainly is, dearest."

Mary Ann pulled him close to her and kissed him gently. "How long does it take to take effect?"

"Immediately, according to the writings of Catullus and Soranus. A glass of the extract, mixed with water once a month, should do the trick. Oh, if Pliny the Elder were alive today!"

She smiled at him with a devilish look.

"Well, Professor Hinkley, I am very much looking forward to testing this plant's effectiveness."

"I'll test it to be doubly sure it's the right plant. I'm 99% certain now."

-o0o-

The next night, Gilligan reappeared again at dinner, after a harrowing few minutes where everyone thought he had disappeared and run off to the other side of the island. After the effects wore off, everything was back to normal, and the Professor started experimenting on the Silphium back in his outdoor lab area. The light was growing dimmer and he knew the light of the tikis would not be enough. He opened his book, _Ancient Remedies_.

Sure enough, from what descriptions he could remember and what was written in the book, it was indeed the plant of the ancients. He leafed through the botany sketchbook. Mary Ann's art was quite good. The watercolors were holding up well.

Mary Ann popped her head in the window. "What did you find out?" she asked.

The Professor whirled around in his seat with a giant grin, wink and A-OK signal.

Mary Ann slipped into the hut and kissed him.

"I'm finished with the extract. You should be able to drink it, now." He poured some in a coconut cup and handed it to her.

She gamely took a sip. It tasted faintly like licorice, which she liked. She waited a minute or two to see if it had any effect. It didn't make her feel sick or anything.

"Well, I feel just fine," she said. "Let's go for that walk!"

They packed a blanket and some matches for a little bonfire and headed up the beach. When they had gotten far enough away, the Professor took Mary Ann's hand and they settled down in a secluded area of the beach.

"I was so worried about you when the lightning struck the other day," the Professor confessed, taking her hand.

"I was frightened," she replied. "But we managed to get that bowling ball off his hand."

He reached over and stroked her face, then leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was warm and gentle and grateful. He looked at her. Even in the moonlight, he could tell that her face was reddening.

"Are you alright?" he asked, suddenly concerned she might be having an adverse reaction to the Silphium. He checked her forehead and pulse. Elevated temperature. Pulse a little rapid.

"I feel…more than fine," she replied, her breath starting to accelerate. "I feel…I don't know how I feel, but it's really nice. I…"

She abandoned whatever it was she was about to say, pulled him against her and kissed him aggressively. In one expert roll move, she had him pinned underneath her, her legs straddling his hips.

"I think it's the Silphium," she said, moving down his chest. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't care."

"I may have mixed it a little too strongly," he gasped, as they rolled around together, madly kissing. She was absolutely wanton.

"I don't mind one bit," Mary Ann replied. Desire simply exploded through her core like a raging fire. Every cell in her body seemed to scream in a delightful agony. "You weren't kidding. That plant is…OHHH!" She was overcome with delight just at the mere thought of him. Her reaction was clearly having an effect on him, as well. He had to gain some control of himself. Not get carried away.

"Mary Ann, dear!" the Professor said, as Mary Ann attempted a maneuver that would send him over the edge if she succeeded. Her hands dumbly protested as he took them gently and shook his head.

"Please do something," she whimpered. "I need…we don't have to…no…I…" she turned her head back and forth, wrestling with what her body demanded and what was "right." Right now her body was winning. The Professor was almost alarmed by her condition, except for one thing – she was truly enjoying every minute of it. She pulled him against her a second time and they kissed passionately.

"Tonight. I don't care anymore. I need you tonight. It isn't wrong. I want all of you, Roy. Right now. Don't you know, Roy? Don't you know?"

"Mary Ann, we shouldn't," he replied, his own body ignoring his reason.

"Well we need to do SOMETHING, or I will go simply mad with desire. My cousin used to tell me about drive-ins…"

"Alright, Mary Ann, but I don't want to go to a point we will both regret."

"Fine, but do everything else. NOW."

-o0o-

The various consistencies of the Silphium extract had some adverse effects, they found later, after several similar top secret tests over the next couple of days. Vivid dreams; some hallucinations when mixed in strong doses. Mary Ann had a strange dream that a space capsule had landed and later exploded in the lagoon. After one particularly strong dosage, she had a vivid, almost hallucinogenic dream that she was Ginger Grant's biggest fan. Even Gilligan knew that wasn't the case, which led the Professor to worry that the others might be concerned about her mental state.

After tripping and hitting her head at the Ginger concert, Mary Ann was convinced she was Ginger Grant. She walked around for two days in Ginger's clothes. She did her hair like Ginger, and even did a terrible impression of her.

On the second afternoon, Gilligan came running to the Professor's hut, visibly upset and wracked with guilt.

"I didn't mean to, Professor! I didn't mean to! But she was all over me!"

"What are you talking about, Gilligan?"

"Mary Ann," he replied. "She was in the jungle going on about how she wanted someone to want and kiss her, then she tried to rehearse one of Ginger's plays and then she started kissing me. Then the Skipper – Oh, I'm sorry, Professor, I know you two are, I didn't mean – I'm sorry! She just kissed me, I swear!"

The Professor put up his hand. Clearly, this plant sent Mary Ann out of control , and well – he reluctantly supposed Gilligan was only human. They would have to take some drastic measures. The answer would be to…what was the answer? Maybe if they dressed Ginger up as Mary Ann, Mary Ann would snap out of her stupor. Or they could ride it out a day or two.

The Professor didn't want anyone to be suspicious of their Silphium experiments, but he was genuinely concerned about the effects. After examining her, he determined that didn't seem sick physically, but it was clear this plant was rather (for lack of a better phrase)….touchy. He tried hypnotizing her out of her stupor. Clearly they were not quite at the right potency, but two Ginger Grants were way too much for anyone.

Finally, after Mary Ann did a horrendous performance of "I Want To Be Loved By You" she snapped out of her trance after stumbling backwards. Everyone sat there in shock until Gilligan jumped up and helped her to her feet.

"I'm Mary Ann! What was I doing up there on that stage?" she asked a few minutes later.

"Do you hear that? MARY ANN wants to know what she was doing on the stage!" the Professor exclaimed.

"Yes! MARY ANN wants to! Oh, that's wonderful! I could kiss her and I think I will!" the Skipper said, smacking her on the cheek.

"Is that the old Mary Ann who wants to know what the new Ginger is doing, or the new Ginger who wants to know what the old Mary Ann was doing?" asked Mrs. Howell.

"Well, I guess we're back to the old Mary Ann and the old Ginger," Mr. Howell said.

"Awwww. And I was just getting used to it the other way," Mrs. Howell groaned.

"Professor?" Mary Ann asked, pointing at Ginger, who was wearing a wig and a gingham dress.

"What, dear?" the Professor asked.

"Look at Ginger! Something must be the matter with her. She's wearing my clothes! She must think she's me."

Everyone busted out laughing.

That night, Mary Ann sheepishly went to the Professor's hut to apologize. "I'm sorry about all that. Gilligan told me what happened in the jungle. If I had known…"

"Don't worry about it, dear. I've finally worked out the potency of this plant. I'm sorry that it caused you all these problems."

"Personally, I feel fine," she laughed. "Ginger's mad at me for wrecking her dress, though. I'll have to make it up to her. But Roy?"

"Yes?"

"Let's hold off on the Silphium experiments until after we're married. I think we're perfectly aware of its effects now. I'm perfectly aware."

"I couldn't agree more," he said, relieved. "We're already treading thin ice in the morality department."

"We'll make the announcement tomorrow."


End file.
